The Royal Crest of Camelot
by Vanvdreamer
Summary: The Royal Seal used to seal Camelot's official documents is magical - and missing. Merlin needs to retrieve it before Uther realizes it's gone. The retrieval doesn't go as planned, and Merlin awakens in the woods injured and confused. AU - Gwaine wasn't banished. Rated T solely because of damage done to Merlin. No slash.
1. Chapter 1 - Where Am I?

_In the episode "The Fires of Idirsholas", Merlin had to poison Morgana, and she was whisked away by Morgause. At that point the viewers know that Morgana has gone darkside, but Arthur and Uther don't. This story is set sometime between that episode and the next._

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. Merlin does not belong to me.**

 **The Royal Seal of Camelot**

 **Chapter 1 - Where Am I?**

Merlin awoke with the brain-fogged feeling of magic overextended, and the awareness of pain somewhere nearby. The confused thought stumbled through his mind that he must move, must get away, right now. The smell of leaf mold was strong in his nostrils, and as he placed his hands down to brace himself, he discovered that he was lying face down on a carpet of last year's leaves.

The thudding of footsteps nearby galvanized him, and he tried to shove himself upright. He got as far as his knees as pain exploded down his side and up into his head. Strong hands caught his shoulders. He struggled, pushing his attacker away. There was a startled exclamation, and a voice that should have been familiar spoke, though the meaning of the words escaped Merlin as his vision blurred and grayed.

"Easy, Merlin! It's okay! It's okay. You're safe," he heard, then, in a tone that combined reassurance and warning, "Arthur's coming."

Reeling on his knees and still trying to get to his feet, Merlin heard another voice, one that he would have recognized from the grave itself.

"Merlin! Merlin, stop struggling. It's all right."

 _Arthur. Prince Arthur. Not bandits._

An even stronger pair of hands grabbed his shoulders very firmly, turned him, and eased him down flat. Merlin heard the royal command, "Just lie there." After a moment, the pain began to subside a bit, and Merlin's vision cleared.

Arthur was leaning over him, blond hair falling to brush against the sides of that narrow impassive face, gently but inescapably holding him down. It occurred to Merlin to find that gentleness vaguely alarming. Arthur usually seemed to feel that Merlin needed toughening up. As Merlin was fuzzily pondering the contradiction, movement to his right caught his attention. A familiar wiry young man had dropped to his knees beside Merlin, and was dragging his pack off his back. The newcomer ran a hand through dark shaggy hair, and his sharp hazel eyes flicked over Merlin as if checking for injuries.

 _Gwaine?_

Gwaine saw Merlin looking at him, and a lopsided and slightly wary smile flashed over his face.

"Are you back with us? Just take it easy, okay?" Gwaine exchanged glances with the prince then began rooting around in his pack, coming away with a handful of bandages. Arthur released his grip on Merlin as Gwaine began carefully easing Merlin's tunic away from his side. Merlin tried to pull away, gasping as the attempt triggered a resurgence of the pain. There was something... Something he had to remember...

Merlin grabbed for Arthur's sleeve, heedless of the rising nausea and pain. "Arthur, wait, I have to tell you-" Merlin gasped. "The seal..."

The prince's clipped words seemed to recede into a gray fog that swept Merlin back under. "No, Merlin, lie still. Gaius is on his way."

-o-o-o-o-

By the time Merlin really awoke again, he was back at home, tucked neatly into his own bed, and thoroughly bandaged. He had vague patchy memories of a terrible-tasting potion, faces peering down at him, and the sway of a stretcher, but little else. At the soft creaking sound of his bedroom door opening, he looked up. A wizened face with a shock of long white hair appeared around it. Apparently, Gaius had come up to check on him. The old healer, foster father to Merlin, hobbled across the room and settled on the edge of the bed. He checked Merlin's bandages gently, then shifted away to seat himself more comfortably in the chair by Merlin's bed.

"All right, Merlin," he said, fixing Merlin with a stern look. "Tell me what happened."

Gaius knew, of course, how it had all started. It had been the day he had attended the sealing of a treaty with Arthur. Merlin had seen the great seal of Camelot before, but never from that close. From his vantage point beside and slightly behind Prince Arthur, he watched as the king prepared to seal the treaty that could greatly reduce the threat any king posed to Camelot's land and people.

As the king poured wax onto the parchment, and raised the seal, Merlin surreptitiously rubbed his eyes. The seal seemed to shimmer slightly as it was lifted from its ancient wooden box and moved through the short distance to the parchment. Merlin glanced rapidly around the room, and shook his head. It must be his imagination. Either that, or the previous evening spent in the tavern with Gwaine was taking its toll. He'd thought Gwaine had done most of the drinking, but maybe he'd had more than he thought. In any case, nobody else seemed to see anything out of the ordinary.

Then, as the seal touched the paper, Merlin nearly leaped backward. There was a blast of magic that fountained out of the seal and then rippled outward like waves in a pond. He must have moved, or made a sound, because Arthur turned unobtrusively and gave him a baleful blue glare. Luckily, no one else seemed to have noticed, as the court's attention had been focused on the sealing of the treaty. The applause that had broken afterward had covered both Merlin's startlement and Arthur's response.

With the ceremony ended, the court began to disperse. Merlin watched, perplexed, as the king returned the seal to its box and handed it absently to the tiny dark-haired page at his elbow, with instructions to return it to its usual place. As the child departed, the king strode out of the room, drawing most of the court along in his wake. An elbow impacted with Merlin's arm, and he looked away from the king's departure to find Arthur watching him with eyebrows climbing into his blond hair.

"Wake up, Merlin," said the prince. "Time to get back to cleaning my armor. And when you're done, I need the scrolls on my desk put away." With a sigh, Merlin followed Arthur out of the king's office and back to work.

For the rest of the afternoon, Merlin completed his usual duties, with only half his mind on the tasks. The seal was magical? How? As virulently against magic as King Uther was, Merlin could not imagine that he knew of its magic. As soon as Merlin could get away, he scooted back toward the apartment he shared with his foster-father, Gaius. The old court healer had adopted Merlin as ward and protégé, when Merlin had arrived at court, and knew of Merlin's powers. Gaius had privately as much as admitted to Merlin that he had practiced magic in his youth, and was also a veritable treasure trove of non-magical but unusual bits of knowledge. Maybe he knew something about the seal.

Bursting through the door to the apartment, Merlin scanned the room. Everything was as it should be, the shelves with their myriad bottles and bags, the old scarred wooden table covered with books and more bottles, and the stretcher propped in the corner ready to be put to use. The only thing missing was Gaius. His cloak was hanging on the hook by the door, so he couldn't be down in the lower town. He must be in the castle somewhere. Merlin whirled and shot back out the door in search of the old healer, only to come to a precipitous halt when he nearly ran down his quarry in the hallway. Gaius stared in amused astonishment as Merlin, having almost flattened him, proceeded to drag him into the apartment and close the door behind the two of them.

"Gaius, how is the seal magical?" he asked immediately.

"To my knowledge, it isn't. Not if we're discussing the royal seal of Camelot, at any rate. Merlin, what have you gotten involved in this time?"

"Nothing! Well, nothing yet. But the royal seal is magical, and I can't imagine how."

Merlin told Gaius what he had seen in the king's study that morning. Gaius, clearly intrigued, began digging through the piles of books on the table, apparently with a particular volume in mind.

"That's it. The History of House Pendragon. I was reading it the other day, and it does mention the seal. Did you know that the seal predates Camelot? It's not the present coat of arms carved on that seal. It's a much older insignia from the early days of the Pendragons."

"So it's been magical all this time, and nobody knew?"

"Perhaps. Magical items were once more common. There is another possibility, however. Magical items can also be created, at least in theory, through dedicated use by a person of great force of will. Which the early Pendragon lords must have been, in the long journey to become a true power in the land. And it was diplomacy, more than force of arms, which brought them to power. Certainly the situation was right for the seal to become magical. In either case, this is intriguing but hardly urgent. Why the agitation?"

Merlin wilted a bit. "I don't know. It just surprised me, I guess. The king is so intent on destroying magic users, that to see magic shooting out of the seal in his hand just seemed so…impossible, I suppose. You're right. Probably nobody but us knows that the seal is magical, and no magic user in his right mind is going to get close enough to King Uther to find out, so…"

At the last statement, Gaius' eyes glinted in suppressed merriment and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"All right," Merlin amended with a rueful grin, "nobody but me. And I'd better get back to work before Arthur comes looking for me. See you tonight."

 **Hope you like it so far! The next installments will start to connect the dots between palace and woods. Please feel free to comment and make suggestions - this is my first attempt at publishing fan fiction, and I want to make this story better!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Missing

**Merlin has discovered that the royal seal is magical, but while this is surprising, it's not exactly earthshaking. Merlin is expecting to just go back to work.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

 **The Royal Seal of Camelot**

 **Chapter 2 - Missing**

Taking his leave of Gaius, Merlin realized that he had better hurry back to Arthur before the prince began to wonder why he'd been gone so long. As he neared the prince's apartments, Merlin could hear voices through the door. Peeking in, he found the prince in his rooms talking with the little dark-haired page Merlin had seen earlier and the venerable records keeper, Lord Monmouth. The page seemed near tears, and Monmouth looked disturbed and irritated.

Merlin tried to enter quietly, slipping inside and closing the door softly behind him. Arthur glanced up, saw Merlin, and gestured absently for him to wait. The remainder of the conversation that Merlin heard made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. The seal, apparently, was missing. The page, whose name turned out to be Ewan, was sure he had returned it, just as usual, to its alcove in the Hall of Records. Monmouth was insisting that the child had returned a little while later to get it back again. Ewan was tearfully denying having returned, maintaining that he had not been sent to get it again.

Arthur was hard to read at the best of times, but it was Merlin's impression that he was being particularly noncommittal as to what he believed truly happened and not particularly worried about the seal itself. Merlin's knowledge that the seal was magical put a sharper edge on the matter. A magical item, tied intrinsically to the Pendragon line, was missing? This was worse than Arthur knew, and the confusion about exactly what had happened made Merlin suspect magic had been used to get to the seal.

The interview seemed to be winding down, with little Ewan transparently grateful to be believed, or at least not punished, and Monmouth looking tolerant of the prince's indulgence toward a servant. Arthur handed Ewan off to Merlin with orders to return him to the servant's hall, and also loaded Merlin down with an armload of scrolls to be returned to the Hall of Records.

At the lad's request, Merlin dropped Ewan off in the kitchens rather than servants' hall, receiving an explanation when the child immediately darted over to a portly assistant cook and buried his face in her apron. Mother, probably. Considering the first part of his orders complete, Merlin turned and headed for the stairs down to the Hall of Records. Having forgotten to return the scrolls that morning was turning out to be a boon. Merlin would have a chance to see if he could gather any information about the theft of the seal, which was usually kept in the alcove behind the record keepers' desk.

When he arrived at the doorway to the Hall, Merlin was surprised to see a guard on duty, and no Monmouth. Lord Monmouth seemed to live in the Hall. Merlin had had cause to come to the Hall of Records many times before, and Monmouth had always been there. Most of the time, Merlin had simply been sent by either the prince or Gaius to get or return materials. Twice he'd had to sneak in at night, and even then Lord Monmouth had been there, asleep and snoring with his head on his desk. But now, blessedly, Monmouth was not on duty.

There remained the guard, however. If he could distract the guard, Merlin might be able to find out who had stolen the seal. Merlin pretended to bobble the stack of scrolls he held, and the guard automatically reached to help. Under the guise of an apparent panicked grab at a falling scroll, Merlin made sure that all of the scrolls went flying, and that one of them bounced off the guard's foot and down the flight of stairs beyond him. Somewhat surprisingly, the ploy worked. The guard grunted in annoyance and plodded off down the stairs after the errant scroll.

Grabbing a scroll in each hand in passing, and darting into the Hall, Merlin went directly to the alcove behind the Record Keepers' desk. Merlin knew he had only a very short time until the guard returned. Chanting the spell that would open the past to his gaze, he focused on the place the seal was usually kept and the space between it and the door. A kaleidoscope of images rushed past him, moving at breakneck speed. _A stranger entering the room, being greeted by Monmouth as if he were a familiar face. Monmouth nodding, turning to slip the seal's box out of its alcove and hand it to the stranger. A flash, like lightning through the spell, and a voice speaking._

The thumping of the guard's feet coming up the steps shook Merlin from the spell's grip just in time. He turned quickly to slide the first scroll into its place just as the guard appeared at the door, scroll in hand. The guard, who clearly did not feel that picking up the rest of the scattered scrolls fell under the category of his duties, handed off the errant scroll and went back to sentry position by the Hall door.

Distractedly, Merlin finished collecting the rest of the scrolls, while mulling over what he had seen and heard in the vision. The stranger had been wearing an amulet that glowed lightly to Merlin's magical senses. Probably that was why Monmouth had responded as if he were a familiar person. Monmouth had seen not the stranger, but the page. The voice was even more instructive. That voice had been Morgana's! Morgana, who Merlin had last seen struggling for breath in Morgause' arms. Merlin set aside the sudden upwelling of guilt and struggled to remember the sorceress' exact words.

"Get the seal and bring it to me here. When you return it, they will be none the wiser, and I will know Uther's plans as soon as he does."

 **I have always wondered what Morgana did during the time she was with Morgause. Maybe she messed with Uthur from afar! Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome - I want to make this story as strong as it can be!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Bandit Camp

**Merlin now knows that is was Morgana who sent the thieves, but has no idea why she would bother to take the seal. Unless there's something about the magic in it?**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine. I don't own Merlin or any of the series' characters.**

 **The Royal Seal of Camelot**

 **Chapter 3 - Bandit Camp**

Merlin had thanked his lucky stars that the day was nearly over so he could return to the apartment in search of Gaius before he exploded from balked curiosity. What could Morgana do with the seal? As it turned out, Gaius had had a theory that sent Merlin flying back out the door in the direction of the woods, intent on retrieving the seal before it could fall into Morgana's hands. Gaius believed that Morgana might be able to harness the magic of the seal to create a telepathic link to its user. The thought of the king having an unconscious telepathic link with any enemy of Camelot was bad enough, but with Morgana's knowledge of Camelot and its defenses, such a link became outright disastrous. Morgana would do anything to topple Uther's reign and set herself on the throne.

Gaius had set Merlin on the path reluctantly, clearly wishing there was a way to avoid Merlin's going alone into bandit-infested woods. The old healer grudgingly agreed that there was no way to enlist any aid without inviting dangerous questions. And even though Merlin, much to his surprise, could track the seal using the residue it had left behind, the traces were fading quickly. So Merlin had set off immediately and alone.

The part that Gaius had no way of knowing, of course, was Merlin's adventure in the bandit's camp. As Merlin recounted the events to Gaius, he remembered that nerve-racking night.

Merlin had ghosted through the rapidly darkening woods, with half his mind on the faint trail of magic that spoke of the seal, and the other half on keeping track of where he was while also moving as quietly as possible. Hours spent as a child playing in the woods rather than collecting firewood lent him speed and stealth, and soon the trail began to strengthen. He was drawing near to his quarry. The sun had thoroughly set, but the moonlight was strong, leaving silvery edges everywhere it touched. Far ahead Merlin saw the flare and spark of fire light, and he slowed to watch more carefully. The trail seemed to be leading straight to that tiny glitter of light. The thieves might have sentries, and it wasn't so very late yet. Anyone by that fire was probably still awake.

Slowly, carefully, Merlin approached, with the glow of the seal tugging at his magical senses. It was close by. At least he knew that he had the right place, at any rate. There was indeed a camp, and the trail led right into it. Watching for spots in which he could take shelter, he eased as close as he dared and found a nook by a deadfall, from which he could see most of the camp and still be mostly concealed. Merlin settled in to watch, fighting the urge to simply charge in, grab the seal, and run like a squirrel. Better, he counseled himself, to watch for a while, and maybe have most of the thieves asleep before attempting to sneak in.

From where he was, he could hear bits and pieces of the louder conversations, which mostly revolved around the custody of the bottles of wine being passed around, and the results of the games of chance being played by the fire. Men left the camp from time to time, and Merlin tried to keep track, but numbers weren't matching up. Either one man had left and not come back, or Merlin had miscounted.

At first, there were several bandits by the fire, but as the time passed they drank, diced, and one by one finally wandered away to roll themselves up in their bedrolls nearby. They hadn't, from their conversation, had enough wine to suit them, and were not passed out, but sleeping bandits were better than alert bandits in Merlin's opinion, whether drunk or not. As the moon continued to rise, and then set, the camp got quieter and quieter. The missing man did not come back.

Finally, when the darkest part of night was approaching, and the camp had been still and quiet for some time, Merlin picked his moment and slipped out of his cranny and up to the edge of the camp. During his time scrunched beside the deadfall, he had puzzled out the probable location of the seal based on the direction of the trail the seal had left – in a leather bag next to a large, gently-breathing lump of bandit just on the other side of the fire. None of the bandits had moved in quite a while, other than dreamy murmurs and rolls. Cat-footed, Merlin crept around the periphery of the camp to the other side of the fire, and eased closer to the bandit's leather bag. To his dismay, he realized that the drawstring of the bag was looped twice around the bandit's arm. Apparently the thief did not want to risk the loss of his prize for a bit of extra comfort. Unfortunately, this meant opening the pouch and getting the seal out – without waking the man.

Merlin silently crouched next to the pouch, and began carefully pulling the drawstring loose, wary lest he disturb the loops of drawstring against the bandit's arm. After what felt like several years of this agonizingly slow process, Merlin had the top of the bag open. As he was about to slip a hand in to grab the seal, the bandit suddenly groaned audibly, rolled slightly, and draped his other arm over the bag. Merlin's heart nearly stopped entirely. He froze, poised to flee.

Nothing happened.

Slowly he eased back to the job, but now the pouch was under the crook of the elbow of the man's other arm. Luckily, the weight of man's arm was not quite resting on the bag, and the drawstring was still loose enough for Merlin to reach into the bag. However, the opening of the bag had shifted and was now pointing inward and upward toward the bandit's chin. The only way for Merlin to get his hand into the bag was to thread it under the bandit's arm with his elbow nearly in the man's face. With a grimace, Merlin began easing his hand into the pouch, feeling for the seal. He found it quickly enough and gently started to draw it clear. As he did so, he realized that he had closed his eyes to concentrate. When he opened them, for a moment he thought the bandit's eyes had been open. Merlin nearly panicked. But, no, the man seemed to be asleep. His breathing was still slow and deep, his eyes closed and his body limp.

Merlin got the seal the rest of the way out and silently stood up, tucking the seal into the sleeve of his tunic. Scanning the camp in a lightning glance, he was relieved to see that no-one seemed to have moved. But as he turned to sneak away into the trees, he felt a hard hand grab for his ankle, and he fell, rolling in the damp leaves. As he got his feet back under him, he made a heart-stopping discovery. The bandit was awake and coming off his bedroll with frightening speed.

As he scrambled to his feet, Merlin rapidly took stock. He knew he couldn't take out the whole camp, but the bandit chieftain, alone in the woods, could be blasted into a tree, and any story he told about the events would sound less like magic and more like the fabrication of a grown man ashamed to have been outrun or out-fought by a slip of a boy. Take off like a rabbit, then, and draw the man into the woods alone.

But even as the plan came together, it failed. To Merlin's dismay, the missing man from the evening before appeared as if out of the ether, stepping from the trees ahead of Merlin. The returning bandit took one fast look at situation, and shouted, "Thief! Everyone up! Someone's trying to steal the seal!"

At the sound of the shouts, the camp seemed to take on the appearance of a beehive poked with a stick. Men were rolling off their blankets everywhere and snatching up weapons. Merlin tried to flee, but was headed off by the newcomer, who was disturbingly fast on his feet. The bandit camp was boiling with activity. Merlin realized with a twist of despair in his stomach that he could not escape, and that there were only a few seconds left before the bandits found the seal tucked into his tunic. As he dodged and twisted to avoid being captured, his mind scrabbled through the potential outcomes of various actions, coming up with only one that had any chance of keeping the seal out of the hands of Morgana. Could he hide the seal with magic?

 _Just get the spell off_ , Merlin thought desperately. He ignored the hard hands grabbing him, knocking him to the ground. He pulled the seal from his tunic, whispering the spell to disguise it as he did so, and camouflaging the motion as much as he could, shoved it deep into the fallen leaves gathered in the crook of the roots on the big oak at his elbow. Then he froze as the cold tip of a sword pricked the side of his neck.

"Warlock," a gravelly voice said from above and behind him. "One more word, even one more sound, and your head will part company with your body."

 **Author's note: Hope you're enjoying the story! Let me know what you think, especially if you have questions you want answered - I'm always trying to improve!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Spell

**The seal is safely hidden but Merlin has been captured by the thieves who stole it. Now the problem is to get away. (Though we readers know he has been rescued, Merlin is deep in the memory as he recounts it to Gaius.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or the characters therein.**

 **The Royal Seal of Camelot**

 **Chapter 4 - Spell**

"Warlock," a gravelly voice said from above and behind Merlin. "One more word, even one more sound, and your head will part company with your body." Then, to someone behind Merlin, "Tie his hands. Gag him. Once he's immobilized, we will see what he knows and what he wants."

"Gods, Grost, he's a warlock? We should kill him now!"

"We need to know why he's here. Gagged or out cold, he's no danger. So if you're that much of a coward, Helmin, knock him out first and then gag him. But kill him only if you want to join him." As he spoke, Grost stepped around far enough that Merlin could see him. He was a big man, with thin gray hair and what looked like a burn scar across one whole side of his face and neck. Merlin shivered at the look in his eyes. This man _would_ kill Helmin – and Merlin – without hesitation. But his eyes burned with zeal to hurt, to harm. And there was no fear of Merlin's magic in those eyes.

The bandits, with mutterings and hasty signs against evil magic, hastened to gag Merlin and tie his hands. They dragged him to the center of their camp. His efforts to keep his feet earned him several blows to the head, the last of which left him feeling sick and dizzy, with a metallic taste in his mouth. He could feel blood trickling down the side of his head.

It had gone downhill from there. Merlin had been briefly interrogated at sword point, and the bandit's dissatisfaction with his answers resulted in blows to his ribs. When he could not immediately get the answers he wanted, Grost shrugged, "Don't talk to us then. But you'll wish you had. We'll let Morgana deal with you." They replaced the gag, tied Merlin's feet, and set about breaking camp around him, seemingly having decided that since they were up they might as well get moving. Merlin struggled to get free of his bonds, but the head injury had weakened him, and his ribs stabbed with every breath. He was unable to get free, and every motion made the pain worse. His head spun and every so often the world seemed to tilt alarmingly.

As pain mounted, a sense of unreality began to build around Merlin. Magic swelled in his head, the pressure increasing with each moment. The words of a powerfully destructive spell burned in his mind, but had no way out past the gag. Merlin abandoned his efforts to escape physically, and turned every ounce of energy he had left inward. Perhaps with enough power behind it, the spell could be cast without speaking. He formed the words in his mind as clearly and firmly as he could, dredging up every last bit of magical power he possessed. His brain was on fire, and the pressure seemed likely to shatter him into a thousand screaming shards. Nevertheless, he kept feeding energy into the spell until suddenly something gave. Merlin felt the spell take form and the magic explode into the air around him. The gag flew apart, the twine tying his hands and feet shredded, and the tree next to him shattered into splinters. He heard cries from the bandits.

 _Now_ , he thought. _Move. Escape. Right now. While they're surprised_. But his body no longer obeyed him, and he sank into oblivion.

-o-o-o-o-

Merlin surfaced from the memory, connecting up the dots. "The next thing I remember was being found by Gwaine. I thought he was a bandit, and I think I might have either punched him or pushed him."

Gaius smiled. "He mentioned you being a bit of a bad patient. Not surprising, between the concussion and the fact that you have always been just a bit stubborn."

Merlin suddenly remembered the seal. He almost jerked upright in his haste, but was stopped by the bandages and Gaius' sharp gesture of restraint. He lay back, startled by the wave of nausea, dizziness, and pain the motion had engendered.

"Gaius, did they find the seal? I hid it-"

"Gently, lad," Gaius responded. "Those ribs could still puncture a lung if you aren't careful. As to the seal, you managed to get across that you'd hidden it, but though the prince ordered the clearing searched, it wasn't found. You weren't making a great deal of sense at the time, and I was concerned that you might say something you ought not, so I dosed you. If nothing else, it put a stop to the babbling. There's no reason to believe your secret has been compromised."

Gaius met Merlin's gaze, worry clear in his eyes. If Merlin's secret were to be found out, Merlin's life would be forfeit, and Gaius' would be endangered. The King would simply burn any sorcerer he uncovered, his son's friend or not, and few folk would believe that Gaius had harbored a sorcerer unknowingly.

The old physician sighed, then suddenly pinned Merlin with a sharp stare as Merlin opened his mouth. "Merlin, for once listen to me. Do NOTHING. Do not draw attention to yourself. Stay here as much as you can. If worst comes to worst, you will break out of jail – you've done it before – and we will flee Camelot. But for now, we behave as we always have. And you rest and heal."

"Gaius, what about the seal?" asked Merlin in dismay. "It's in the woods still. We can't just leave it there..."

Gaius frowned. "I think we shall have to for now, at any rate. Is it hidden well?"

Merlin smiled impishly despite the pain and fatigue. "Oh yes. It's hidden. In fact, it's a handful of leaves."

Gaius' forehead creased in confusion.

"I set an illusion on it. It looks just like a handful of fallen leaves. Arthur's searchers probably saw it and didn't even know they'd seen it."

Gaius' confused expression turned rapidly to amusement. "Then we leave the handful of leaves in the woods until we can find a way to safely retrieve it. And in the meantime, my lad, YOU are going back to sleep.

"But..."

"Never mind the 'but'. You need to rest. The seal will wait."

Gaius pulled a blanket over Merlin, and left him alone. Though Merlin had every intention of staying awake and figuring out how to get the seal back without arousing suspicion, his eyelids soon closed and he sank into the deep warmth of healing sleep.

 **Author's note: Hope you're still enjoying the story! The next installments will reunite Merlin with Arthur and Gwaine, and work toward getting the seal out of the woods. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Secret

**Merlin is home recuperating. But he has a surprise in store for him.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable.**

 **The Royal Seal of Camelot**

 **Chapter 5 - Secret**

By the next day, Merlin was beginning to get thoroughly bored. Due to the broken ribs, Gaius had forbidden him to move around unless absolutely necessary. And though Merlin hadn't precisely admitted to the dizzy spells that plagued him every time he tried to stand up, he suspected Gaius knew anyway. Merlin tried to look on the positive side of things and enjoy his vacation from work, but he found himself simply aching to do something – anything – that wasn't in his small room.

Gwen had wheedled Gaius into allowing her to stay with him briefly, and Merlin had very much enjoyed her visit. Even aside from the welcome relief from boredom, Gwen was both a comforting presence and a comfortable one. After bustling about opening windows to the clean air and helping to rearrange his pillows and bedding, she simply ordered him to lie still and rest while she sat and chatted with him. Too soon, though, she kissed his forehead and said she had to leave. In Morgana's absence she had been reassigned to serve the king, and had best not be late. Merlin could imagine that with his beloved Morgana "missing" the king was likely to be even less patient than usual with a tardy servant, so he sent her on her way without delay. Then, sighing, he picked up one of the books Gaius had brought him to while away the hours.

The literary distraction was successful enough that Merlin was deep in his book when a better distraction arrived in the form of a soft tap on his door. Merlin looked up from his book as the door to his room slowly creaked open again. This time a shaggy brown head peered around it, hazel eyes lighting on Merlin.

"Gwaine!" exclaimed Merlin.

"Did I wake you?" Gwaine asked. When Merlin shook his head with a smile and waved him toward the stool, he crossed the small room and settled onto it with long-legged grace. His gaze ran over Merlin, and worry lines eased a bit. "Are you up to a visitor? You don't look so green anymore."

Merlin groaned. "Don't remind me. But please stay. I feel fine, as long as I don't try to bend. Well, that or breathe. Or stand up. Arthur says I'm trying to get out of cleaning his armor."

"He did?"

"He stopped by for just a minute yesterday evening. To tell me how little he misses my services, he said. Apparently since I'm such a useless servant, he hasn't noticed lacking anything. But then he whacked me in the shoulder and said to rest up and not to worry, and then Gaius chased him out."

Gwaine laughed. "That's Arthur, isn't it? I don't think he knows his own strength. Those friendly pats of his can knock you clean off your feet. He came to see you, though. Most nobles wouldn't. To most of them, you're just a servant."

"He doesn't care much about servants versus nobles. Camelot's people mean a lot to him, whatever their station, and I think a lot of the townsfolk love him because of it. They can see it. He's going to be a great king, when the time comes."

"You really believe that, don't you?" Gwaine glanced at the door, looking thoughtful, then hesitant. He tapped his folded hands to his chin, looking down, then suddenly looked determinedly back up at Merlin. "Merlin, there's something you need to know. I know your secret."

The words should have hit like lance point on shield, but instead it took a moment for Merlin to even wrap his mind around the meaning of the words. When he did, he felt a pit open up in his stomach. Did Gwaine know? Gwaine's eyes were keen, and focused intently on his face. As Merlin struggled to respond, Gwaine went on.

"I had often wondered at Arthur's luck. He's rarely hit from behind – most people who try die, or have unlikely accidents befall them, and no one ever sees who took out his foe. He's been found, after more than one fight, having slain the monster, somehow, before he passed out. And he still tells the story of escaping the cave of Nimueh with the help of a shining ball of light that appeared when he needed it."

"I realized when we followed Arthur into the land of the Fisher King that you were tougher, and braver, than Arthur seemed to see. But until I found you in the bandit camp, I didn't think it was you."

During this recitation, Merlin could feel his heart pound harder with each sentence, and the pit yawn deeper in his gut. Gwaine continued, each word striking Merlin's mind with the force of a hammer blow.

"The trees next to you were in splinters, all of them blown away from you. And when I tried to steady you, your eyes glowed yellow, and it felt like a giant hand pushed me away."

 _There is only one choice now,_ thought Merlin. Gwaine could not be convinced to ignore the evidence of his own eyes without magic, and Merlin was unwilling to overpower his friend in that way. And to have attacked Gwaine with magic demanded some response. What if, in his confusion, his magic had done more than just push Gwaine away?

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry, Gwaine," were the words that came out as the room tipped and spun sickeningly. "I didn't mean…I could have killed you."

There was a pregnant pause, as Gwaine's expression seemed to progress from surprise to wry humor. "Well, that's not quite the reaction I expected. And a funny concept, too. What a way to go – killed by accident by an out-of-his-head sorcerer." His gaze sharpened a bit, and he reached for Merlin's arm. "Merlin, take it easy."

"What?"

"You're as white as a sheet, mate." He gave Merlin's arm a quick squeeze and let go. "It's okay. Take it easy, or Gaius is going to kick me out." Gwaine paused, glanced quickly at the door, then said quietly, "Your secret's safe. I'm all but certain none of the others saw, and I'm not going to tell anyone. I know as well as you do what would happen to you if the king got wind of this." He shrugged, a bit uncomfortably. "I just thought you should know, so you'd know you had somebody watching your back."

Gwaine paused for a moment, watching Merlin carefully. "You're kicking yourself around for using magic on me, aren't you? Sure, it was a bit of a shock – didn't know you could do things like that – but think about it this way. You didn't hurt me, even though you weren't exactly thinking straight at the time."

Somehow it had never occurred to Merlin that one of the knights might be the one to discover his secret. He had no plans for this. Maybe he didn't need them. Gwaine, of all the knights, was a friend. He could, and would, keep Merlin's secret – probably better than Merlin did. It felt as if a huge weight was slowly lifting off his shoulders. Someone knew he was a sorcerer, who also would understand what it took to keep Arthur off the scent.

"Hey Merlin," Gwaine prompted, "I think you need to tell me a story or three."

-o-o-o-o-

By the time Gwaine left, Merlin was feeling both comforted and desperate for a nap. Gwaine had teased the true stories of several of Arthur's exploits out of him, having guessed, in retrospect, that Arthur had had help. He had been amused by the machinations Merlin had gone through to keep Arthur in the dark. Merlin was grateful that Gwaine had not questioned his decision to do so, and had seemed to understand that the information would put the prince in an untenable position that would be acutely dangerous to Merlin.

Soon after Gwaine left, Gaius appeared to check on Merlin again, who braced himself and admitted to his foster-father that Gwaine had discovered Merlin's secret. Gaius was appalled, but hearing the tale reluctantly agreed that there had been little choice. Merlin, who had been expecting a lecture at the very least, was astounded to have escaped so lightly. Gaius' final comment shed light on the matter.

"Now that Gwaine knows, perhaps he may be able to help us retrieve the seal."

 **Author's note: I always thought it was a shame that Gwaine didn't know Merlin had magic. So in my world, now he does! Hope you are still enjoying – thank you to those of you who are reading, and especially to mersan123 for her encouragement. Comments are very welcome!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Arthur

**Gaius has been keeping Arthur away to let Merlin rest, but the seal truly needs to be recovered, and Merlin knows it. Arthur is starting to get restless – and curious – and takes matters into his own hands.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **Author's note: I've just added the part about Owain. Many thanks to gingeraffealene who caught that hole in my logic! If you're considering commenting, please let me know if it works.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 6 - Arthur**

To Merlin's frustration, having taken Gwaine into their confidence did not seem to open any possibilities for regaining the seal. Even aside from the basic difficulty of describing to Gwaine exactly which tree to search under in a forest full of trees, the illusion presented a barrier. The seal looked exactly like leaves, and was buried in a pile of leaves in a forest full of leaves. Gwaine would have to find it by touch. Imagining the unlikely scenario of Gwaine scurrying from tree to tree digging through all the fallen leaves, Merlin had to admit that that wasn't perhaps the most sensible solution.

Merlin was certain he would be able to find the correct tree and break the spell, but when he proposed getting on a horse then and there, Gaius nearly exploded.

"You cannot ride, Merlin. Not yet. Jostle those ribs just a little too much, and you will be in very serious condition indeed. They MUST knit at least a little or you endanger your life. You are NOT riding anywhere right now, or even in the next few days."

"Gaius, we have to get the seal. Soon."

"I know, my lad, I know, but it simply must wait."

Merlin was getting very tired of the word _wait_.

-o-o-o-o-

By the time he awoke on the fourth day back, Merlin had begun to feel a little bit better. The dizziness had mostly eased, except for when he overexerted. As long as he moved carefully, he could get around reasonably well, though the broken ribs were still exquisitely painful at times and Merlin had discovered the hard way that sneezing was to be avoided at all costs. But all in all, things were a looking up a bit.

About mid-morning, Merlin awoke slowly from an inadvertent nap with the impression that he had missed something. And indeed, when Merlin looked around he discovered that Arthur had somehow slipped in without waking him up and was standing looking out the window. An abandoned book lay on the chair at Merlin's bedside. As Merlin stirred, Arthur turned around.

"Merlin." He didn't seem to quite know what to say next, so Merlin took the opportunity to tease him a bit.

"That's my name."

Apparently Arthur was in no mood to accept Merlin's usual brand of insouciance. "No, your name is idiot. What were you thinking? Going ALONE into the woods following people you knew were thieves and who knows what else? You could have been killed. When we found you, you were…" He trailed off, frowning slightly, leaving Merlin wondering just how bad he'd looked.

"I'm lucky you did come looking for me. Thank you. I hadn't realized there were so many of them, and - Wait, how did you know where to find me?"

"Gaius. Did you know that people tell that man everything? Apparently someone heard a conversation at the tavern that clued them in to the thieves, and also saw you sneaking along after them when they left. The man told Gaius, and Gaius came to me. Merlin, why is it that every time you're missing it turns out that you were in the tavern?"

At the discovery of Gaius' predictable choice for a cover story, Merlin tried to turn a snort of laughter into a cough, which turned into a gasp of pain as his ribs stabbed.

"Merlin? What's wrong? Should I get Gaius?" Arthur's voice and face remained calm, but he was shifting backwards and forwards, as if he couldn't quite decide whether to approach Merlin or run for Gaius. If Merlin had been in less pain, he'd have been touched - and amused. Formal courts the prince could handle in his sleep. The chaos of battle seemed to simply make him focused and dispassionate. But one injured servant produced masked panic.

"No, no," Merlin protested between careful breaths, "It's okay. I just breathed too deeply."

Arthur watched him narrowly for several seconds before coming around to the chair. He picked up the book, looked for a place to set it, and not finding one, gracefully took a seat with the book in his lap. He regarded Merlin with the inscrutable expression that Merlin often associated with trouble and then resumed his explanation.

"All right then. We didn't know exactly where you were, so I brought along Sir Owain and his squad, who patrol that area most often. It took us about four hours of checking Owain's best guesses to finally find you." He paused, letting Merlin writhe with guilt for a moment, then relented.

"In any case, I need information, but Gaius has been guarding you like a mother hen since the day after we got back, saying you weren't well enough for visitors yet. I slipped in while he was out. Talk to me. Where is the seal?"

"I hid it."

"Yes, _Mer_ lin, I got that part. Where," he continued with conspicuous patience, "did you hide it?"

"Under a tree, in the leaves collected in the hollow of a big root."

"Merlin, there are quite a few trees in the forest. Perhaps you could be a bit more specific?"

"Not really."

"Merlin!"

"Well, really, how am I going to describe it to you? It's a big oak tree, not far outside the clearing you found me in, but I'm sure there are quite a few of those. Arthur, I can find it. I'll take Gwaine with me; we'll ride out – at a walk if we have to – and bring it back."

"There's no way you can ride."

"I can ride!"

"Yes, and we'll be scraping you off the ground before we've traveled a league."

"Arthur, we have to get the seal back. I have a bad feeling about it being in the woods. Something's going to happen to it."

"You and those bad feelings, Merlin. So give me as much detail as you can about the tree. We will find it."

"No, look, I can find it. You can't. It'll be fine." Merlin sat up carefully, shoved aside the blanket and swung his feet down to the floor, trying hard not to wince. The motion hurt less than it would have a few days before, but he could still feel sweat popping out on his forehead.

Arthur tried for a sneer, but Merlin could see the panic underneath it. "Merlin, where do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think? I'll get dressed and we'll go talk to Gaius. You'll see." Merlin got his legs under him and stood. _I've got this_ , he assured himself. _I've got it_. He turned to grab a clean tunic, but unexpectedly the room seemed to do a gentle roll like the deck of a ship at sea. He would have crashed over sideways except for the strong hands that grabbed him, steered him back to the edge of the bed, and supported him there.

"Sit. And stay sat." The prince released Merlin and waited a moment, probably trying to judge whether or not Merlin could remain upright without his support. "I'll get Gaius. And it's going to be your job to convince him that this is a good idea. Because I'm not seeing it." Arthur leveled a finger at Merlin and stared at him sternly. "Stay put!" he ordered, and after scooping up the abused book and tossing it back onto the chair he stomped down the stairs in search of the healer.

In the end it was decided. Gaius reluctantly admitted that Merlin's ribs should have knit enough to not present a danger provided he received assistance mounting and dismounting and rode slowly. So Arthur gave the order and preparations were made for the prince, Merlin, and Gwaine to leave early on the morrow to recover the seal.

 **Author's note: Thank you for reading! Hope you're still enjoying the story. Next installment will (finally) get the trio back out into the woods. Where, of course, all will go as planned…**

 **Please comment and let me know what you think of the story or chapter. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome: I want to improve my writing. Suggestions and questions are wonderful too!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Watcher

**Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine are heading out into the woods to finally retrieve the seal.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 7 – Watcher**

The next morning, the prince and Gwaine all but lifted Merlin into the saddle, and the trio set out for the woods. Arthur set an exceedingly gentle pace as they left the palace grounds and headed out through the lower town. Merlin was grateful for the patience the prince was exercising, because it quickly became evident that riding was going to be more uncomfortable than he'd thought. _I can do this_ , Merlin told himself. _Just hang on, get the seal, and get home. I can do it_.

They found the clearing where the bandits had camped easily enough, and tethered their horses there. A small amount of walking located the correct tree. Merlin said nothing, but he was in agony by then, shaking and dizzy; he'd expected mounting to hurt, but after the first few minutes, riding had hurt too. Each impact of his horse's hooves seemed to go right through to the broken ribs. Both Gwaine and Arthur must have known he was in pain, because as soon as he pointed out the tree to Gwaine, the two exchanged glances, caught his arms and carefully eased him down to sit at the foot of another tree nearby. Merlin leaned back against the bole and tried not to move. _We're here,_ he thought. _First part's done._

After a several seconds of digging in the leaves collected in the hollow under the tree root, Gwaine sat back on his heels and looked over at Merlin. Merlin felt a pang of foreboding go through him.

"Not finding it, mate. You're sure this is the right-" Gwaine began.

Arthur suddenly hissed at Gwaine and gestured for silence. The prince loosened his sword in its scabbard and with a tilt of his head indicated the underbrush a short distance beyond the tree under which Gwaine had been digging. Merlin listened and looked. He heard nothing but the usual sounds of the woods. There was nothing moving but a squirrel in the leaves. He saw nothing at all unusual in the direction Arthur was indicating.

Arthur began moving stealthily, clearly knowing exactly where he was headed. His gesture directed Gwaine to circle wide. Gwaine followed Arthur's line of sight, nodded, and complied, but with the air of having no idea what he was looking for. Merlin started to sit up, but the prince gestured sharply. The meaning was clear: Stay put.

The prince moved around the big oak and a short way through the trees to stealthily approach a gigantic fallen log resting slightly tilted upward by a boulder.

He leveled his sword at the space under the trunk and spoke icily.

"Come out. I see you."

Arthur abruptly withdrew his sword and Gwaine goggled and then laughed as a very small figure wriggled out from the shadows beneath the log and rose to its feet. It was only a child: a girl of no more than eight or nine years of age, with huge grey eyes and dark tendrils of wavy hair escaping her braid. There were leaves clinging to her tunic and breeches and to the brown cloak that was currently tangled around her legs. Curiosity and alarm warred in her eyes. Arthur slid his sword back into its scabbard. He crouched to get closer to her level and spoke gently.

"Hello there. Don't be afraid. I'm Arthur, and that's Merlin over there, and Gwaine. What were you doing under that log?"

Her gaze touched each of them in turn, and then apparently curiosity won out.

"I was playing. And I heard you coming and I thought you were those bad men that were here before. Mama told me to stay away from them after I told her about them. But you were coming fast so I hid." She seemed to pause briefly to consider, then continued, "You didn't act like them. I was watching. And you don't dress like them either. None of them had pretty cloaks." She nodded at the red cape Arthur wore. "And you're clean." She seemed to feel that that put the cap on it. Looking down at her own clothing, she began to brush off leaves and untangle her cloak.

Merlin saw Arthur's lips twitch into a small smile.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Katya."

"Well, Katya, those men may have had something of ours. We think they left it behind. Do you think you could help us find it?"

She seemed to consider him carefully for a moment and then responded softly. "Is it magic? I found something magic, under that big tree over there where you were looking," she pointed, "and I took it to Mama." The child paused abruptly, looking concerned. "Oh, no. Mama said not to tell anyone that I found magic. Please don't tell her?"

Listening to the girl, Arthur's brow wrinkled, then his eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be about to speak, but Merlin, who had struggled to his feet with Gwaine's help and joined them, interrupted to ask, "What was it? The magical thing you found?"

She looked doubtful for a moment. Then she explained, "I don't know what it is. It's wooden and red and about so big," she said, framing the dimensions with her hands, "and it has words on it." Those big eyes locked onto his and widened. Then he heard her small voice in his head.

 _Emrys, is it yours, the magic? Have you come for it?_

 _It belongs to Arthur. I'm helping him. If you can help us get it back, I would be very grateful. But please don't tell him I'm Emrys._

 _But why not?_

 _I'm not sure how he'd take it! He doesn't like surprises._

 _Oh._

Over their conversation, he heard Arthur's and Gwaine's voices. Gwaine spoke cheerfully. "That sounds like the seal."

"But the seal isn't magical. And how would she know?"

"Well, how would _**we**_ know? Maybe it is. Magical, I mean."

"Gwaine, it's _**my father's**_ seal. It's not magical." He turned back to the girl. "Katya, the item you found sounds like the seal, the thing we are looking for. We'll need to get it back, because it's important. Can you take us to your mother?"

Instead of responding to Arthur, she queried Merlin, "Why are you so white and sweaty?"

Both Gwaine and Arthur turned to look at Merlin, who tried his best to look like he was fine. The prince responded before Merlin could. "Because he's an idiot. And he's hurt."

"Then we should for sure take him to Mama. She can fix people. Come this way."

-o-o-o-o-

The next little while passed in a painful blur for Merlin. Katya had assured them that her family's camp was nearby. Merlin had been lifted back into the saddle. It wasn't nearly the relief he had hoped it would be, but with Gwaine leading the horse, he could cling with his legs and brace himself with his arms, and it was a little better than walking. Ahead, Merlin could hear Katya's soprano babble punctuated only occasionally and briefly by Arthur's tenor responses. He closed his eyes and endured.

Some unknown time later, the movement beneath him stopped and Merlin opened his eyes to see where they were. They had come to an opening in the forest. This one was small and clearly had been inhabited for quite some time. There was a large tent and a smaller one, their flaps opened to the morning air, set side by side along the eastern end of the oval clearing. A generous amount of neatly stacked firewood filled the northern edge, and small fire snapped in a fire pit that claimed pride of place in the center of the clearing. A large pot was set to boil above the fire, attended by an old woman who was looking up alertly. A younger woman, dark haired and small, had paused while hanging laundry on ropes strung between two trees at the western edge of the clearing, and two men had evidently just risen from seats by the fire. _They couldn't help but hear us coming_ , thought Merlin dazedly, _between footfalls, horses, and Katya_.

Merlin's vision had been fading in and out for some time, and now the world was tilting, spinning, sliding. He couldn't hold on any longer. In fact, the horse seemed to be somehow going insubstantial under his hands. He heard an exclamation, and then Gwaine and Arthur were catching him and easing him down to the ground. The younger woman made a concerned sound, and began to approach. The older of the two men, however, intercepted her and caught her arm.

"Kari, wait," he said to the woman, just as Katya darted past Merlin and wrapped her arms around the woman's waist, talking all the while.

Kari placed a finger lightly on Katya's lips, silencing her briefly, but spoke to the man.

"Father, he's injured. Would you have me do nothing?"

She gently freed herself from his grip, pried Katya's arms off her waist, and stepped around the younger man, who had attempted to place himself between her and the newcomers. She met his worried gaze and spoke quietly.

"Geren, it'll be all right. This is my calling, love. Let me do this."

He silently squeezed her shoulders, then moved with her warily as she approached Merlin and dropped to her knees beside him. Before she could quite touch him, however, Arthur extended a hand to prevent her.

"Wait. Tell me what you intend to do," the prince demanded.

"I am a healer adept," she responded calmly. "And I can help your friend."

"He's been treated by my physician."

"I can do more than treat him. I can heal him."

There was a brief silent moment as Arthur digested this. And in that silence, she evaded Arthur's intervening hand and placed her hand firmly in the center of Merlin's chest.

For Merlin, it was as if a flood of heat began under her hand and gushed outward. He felt three distinct pops in his rib cage accompanied by hot shooting pains, making him gasp. Then the wave continued outward, sweeping to the ends of his fingers and toes and lapping upward into his skull. Again there was a sharp pain and an intensification of the heat, this time under the skull above his left ear. Then Kari lifted her hand from his chest and the heat was gone. It had all happened so fast, Merlin realized, that nobody had had time to respond.

Then, in the next moment, everything seemed to happen at once. Geren scooped Kari to her feet and yanked her away from Arthur, who had leaped to his feet, pulled his sword, and leveled it at them. Gwaine struggled to both draw his sword and stay between Geren and Merlin while also keeping a hand on Merlin to prevent him from rising. Kari's father caught Katya by the arm and nearly threw her toward the woman at the fire, who had risen to her feet. "Durya," he shouted as he grabbed a knife from a stool near the fire, "take Katya and go. Now!"

It seemed to Merlin that everyone was panicking. He scrambled to his feet, shaking off Gwaine in the process, and grabbed Arthur's armored forearm, trying to push his blade down. "Wait, Arthur. It's okay. All she did was heal me."

Everyone paused. There was silence. Merlin took a deep breath – without pain! – and continued plaintively. "Can we maybe just talk about this?"

 **Author's note: Thank you for reading, and many thanks to mersan123 for the encouraging comments! I hope you like it so far! Please comment – it makes my day! If you've found any typos, mistakes or logic holes, please let me know: I'd like to fix them before I inflict them on any more readers.**


	8. Chapter 8 - Tale

**Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine have met Katya's family, but the initial introduction did not go smoothly. Arthur is currently pointing a sword at the sorceress who just healed Merlin. Time for Merlin to step in...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 8 – Tale**

Merlin firmly suppressed the laughter rising in his throat. Trying to push Arthur's sword arm down was a bit like trying to reposition a stone statue. Merlin hadn't budged him one bit. Nevertheless, the prince responded to Merlin's tugging by taking his eyes off Kari and Geren just long enough to look Merlin over in one lightning glance, a quick evaluation that was followed by raised eyebrows.

"Arthur, look at them." Merlin spoke softly enough for Arthur's ears alone. "They're no threat."

Arthur's gaze went first to the couple directly before him. Geren, unarmed, was trying to protect his wife with his own body, eyes fixed on Arthur's sword. Then the prince's gaze flicked away to take in the rest of the clearing. Durya had grabbed Katya and fled most of the way across the glade, but had paused, unwilling to leave. The old man with the knife had stepped determinedly between Arthur and the retreating pair, as if to ensure their escape. None of them were actually moving, either to retreat or to attack.

After a moment Arthur slipped his blade back into its scabbard. Katya wriggled out of Durya's grip and came pelting across the clearing straight into her parents' arms. Geren placed his arms around his wife and daughter and held them to him, murmuring reassurances. Gwaine came up alongside Merlin, hooked an elbow, neatly spun Merlin around, and looked him up and down. Merlin let a silly grin blossom.

"I'm better, Gwaine, totally healed."

"Yeah? Good news, mate." Gwaine grinned back and released Merlin with a pat, but when his eyes came back to Kari, the smile died a bit. "That's maybe a bit better than can be said for the healer," he suggested. Merlin looked back at Geren and Kari.

Geren had Kari snugged tightly to his side in a way that suggested physical support rather than reassurance. She leaned against him, resting her forehead on his chest, and her face was far paler than it had been just moments before. Geren looked down at her somewhat sadly. "She healed the boy. But she pays of her own strength and health. She needs to rest. If I may?" At Arthur's nod, and after nudging his daughter aside, he scooped Kari up and carried her into the larger of the two tents, with Katya trotting along behind them.

The glade went quiet.

Into the silence Durya spoke. "Sire, I know who you are." She smiled slightly at Arthur's surprise and pointed with her chin toward his cloak brooch. "Your insignia, you see. May I ask your indulgence to hear our story? It will not be long, and may help you decide what to do about us."

Arthur considered for a moment. "I will listen."

"Then why don't we gather by the fire, and I will tell my tale."

"One moment."

Arthur turned to Merlin and Gwaine. "Merlin." He paused for a moment. "You're really better?" Arthur's eyes were searching his face, his eyes asking multiple additional questions.

Merlin met his gaze and tried to communicate that he was fine, he was himself, and all was well. The grin that was bubbling in him kept coming back to the surface. He just felt so much better! "I'm fine, Arthur, truly. I feel incredible, actually. Though it's probably just that the pain is gone." He struck an overly-obedient pose. "So what are your orders, sire? I assume I'm about to be put back to work."

"About time, too. I was getting tired of carting you around."

"You needed to work off all that stew."

" _Mer_ lin!" Arthur was obviously trying to suppress a smile. "Go tend to the horses. And have the other joker," tilting his head toward Gwaine, "help you. Come find me when you're done."

As Merlin and Gwaine went to gather up the horses, who luckily had not wandered far, it occurred to Merlin that Gwaine had been unusually quiet for quite a while – since they'd found Katya, in fact.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, bumping Gwaine's shoulder with his own. "You've actually been quiet." Gwaine flipped the reins of Arthur's horse over its head before answering.

"Yeah. I just keep thinking of questions I want to ask you that I can't ask when the 'princess' is around."

"Fire away." Merlin had wrapped the reins of his own sweet-tempered mare around a sturdy branch, and paused to stroke her soft nose.

"Kari's got magic. And Katya spilled the beans about hers. But what about the others? Geren? Durya? The old man?" Gwaine coaxed Arthur's mount over to the same tree and passed the reins to Merlin, who tied them off.

"Don't know. I won't until one of them actually uses it. I'm guessing Durya does. No idea about the others."

"Okay. How about the seal? Is it magical?" When Gwaine turned around, his mare was already standing right next to him, eying his pocket. Gwaine laughed and pulled out an apple. "Knew that was there, did you?" He offered it to the horse, who rapidly reduced it to moist crumbs as Merlin spoke.

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know! It's magical. Remind me to tell you later how I found out – there's no time now. And don't ask me how it happened that Uther owns a magical implement, because I have no idea about that, either."

Gwaine grinned. "So, in other words, you're almost as lost as I am." He brushed the apple crumbs off his hand, patted the horse, and looped its reins around the branch as well.

"Probably."

"Better get back to the princess."

"I suppose we must."

By the time Merlin and Gwaine arrived, Durya and Arthur had been joined at the fire pit by little Katya and the older man, whom Durya introduced as her husband Sven. When all were seated, she began the tale.

-o-o-o-o-

"Our family has wandered these lands for time out of mind – Camelot, yes, but also many of the neighboring kingdoms. For as long as any of us can remember, we have always had the gift. The magic, you would say. The knowledge of how to use it is passed from parent to child, each generation trained by the one before. But the aptitude, the native ability, it is simply there, from childhood – or not. Kari is one in whom the gift runs very strongly toward healing, even though she has little other magic. She is often sought out as a healer among our people, because she can heal in a moment injuries that many of us cannot heal at all. Broken bones, for instance, must often heal of themselves, though we can set the bone aright and prevent infection from setting in. Kari simply mends them with a touch."

"Because of her strong gift, Kari became fairly widely known early in life. When she was sixteen years old, she came to the attention, we don't know how, of a young prince named Cenred. His father was dying, and he sent his messengers out in search of her. His message said that he wished her to come to the castle. He offered gold and jewels, protection, favors, anything she desired if she would come to heal his father. We were suspicious – very much so. But the gift entails responsibility – if one can heal, one must do so. And Kari had learned this lesson deeply and well. She wished to go. So she and my son," a flash of remembered sorrow crossed her face, "left to accompany the messenger back to the young lord Cenred."

Merlin could imagine where this was heading, and from the look on his face, so could Arthur.

"She wanted no reward, had no need, she thought, for protection or favors, but because injury begged for healing, she went to the castle and she healed the king. Cenred and his father praised her skills and begged her to stay to serve them as the royal healer. They offered her jewels and gowns, a plush room in the castle, anything she wished. When she insisted that she wished to leave, to return to her family, Cenred betrayed her. He asked his father, who needed little urging in any case, to refuse to allow her to leave. She was now Cenred's, he told her, and killed her brother before her eyes when my son dared to object."

"From that day, she was both prisoner and drudge. By day, she was made to work and to heal for them, usually the injuries of the soldiers sustained during raids. And in the night others came to her, the lowly ones, for healing. These, for Kari, were the heartbreaking ones," Durya continued, "the bruises, scrapes, and worse, of abused men, women, and children who had no more power to flee than she did."

"Word of her captivity spread among our people, and among the folk that Kari had healed. Outrage grew quickly, and soon a rescue was mounted. A party of our softest walkers, the ones that can slip in and out unseen, went to get her and bring her home. And none too soon, for when she was returned to us, she was already grievously thin and worn to a rag."

"Cenred was furious when she escaped. He sent out his raiding parties, looking everywhere in his kingdom for our people. We had expected this, however, and most of us escaped his grasp. We had scattered to the four winds, you see, giving no hint of where we intended to go. Those poor souls he did capture did not know where Kari was, and so no torture could wring it from their lips. All of us fled his lands, and most of us dare not return."

Durya paused, sighed. "My lord prince, we can no more refrain from sensing magic than you can refrain from hearing. We know that magic is against the law, but we also know that healing is a responsibility for those of us with the gift. We use our magic in peace, to help and to heal. What will you do with us? Do you condemn us? Or will you allow us to live?"

There was a breathless silence. Even Katya, leaning on her grandmother's shoulder, was still. Merlin risked a glance at the prince. Instead of his usually stoic expression, Arthur's face showed clearly his ambivalence. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but just as he did, the silence abruptly changed. Merlin felt a chill go through him, the "bad feeling" that Arthur often mocked. Sven and Durya simultaneously looked eastward. They exchanged glances. Durya whispered, "Something is coming."

 **Author's note: I made a bit of a detour here, but I hope you found Kari's back story interesting. Thank you for reading, and many thanks to mersan123 and gaylelbf for the encouraging comments!**

 **If you're reading this, please consider commenting – it makes my day! If you've found any typos, mistakes or logic holes, please let me know: I'd like to fix them before I inflict them on any more readers. I proof and Microsoft Word spell checks, and somehow we still miss things!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Attack

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters. If I did Gwaine would never have been banished.**

 **And now, on to our story.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 9 – Attack**

Though both Durya and Sven could sense something approaching, neither of them could identify it. Durya sent Katya into the tent, telling the child, "Tell papa, sweeting, that there's something coming from the east. Then stay in the tent." The child darted off.

"It's a bad feeling," said Sven, "but that doesn't absolutely mean something's wrong. Could just be an ordinary traveler in a really bad mood." Durya looked askance at him, and he shrugged. "Anything's possible. You never know." As he spoke, Geren emerged from the tent carrying a spear. He joined the group by the fire and spoke hurriedly.

"Kari feels it too," he said to Sven and Durya. "She's ready, but wants to stay out of sight."

A hurried plan was made. Geren would stay in the open to maintain the pretense of normality. Sven, having only a bow for a weapon, would hide in the tent with Kari, with an arrow at the ready. Durya hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Sire, I would ask… would you be willing to stay out of sight as well? It would add to the element of surprise, should we be forced to defend ourselves."

"Especially," said Gwaine, "since billowy red cloaks are so good for blending in with the locals."

Geren was startled into a laugh. Sven only cocked his head and looked at Arthur's cloak. "Durya, why don't you take these three and watch from the small tent? You'll know when you're needed."

Merlin, Arthur and Gwaine hastened into the small tent behind Durya as Sven disappeared into the bigger one. As soon as they were inside, Arthur let down the flap and crouched by it, nudging it very slightly aside to get a view through the tiny gap. With the privilege of age, Durya moved up to stand behind him and watch from there. Merlin looked around and saw another viewpoint, a ventilation flap high on the wall. He headed for it, only to be obstructed by Gwaine, who evidently had seen the same opening. There was a brief silent-but-gleeful tussle, which ended in both of them crammed into the same corner of the tent trying to put an eye to the opening.

A very soft hiss from Arthur drew their attention. Silently he rolled his eyes, then pointed to an identical ventilation flap in the other corner. Gwaine and Merlin grinned at each other sheepishly, and Gwaine slipped across to look out of the other flap.

They had barely arranged themselves when footfalls began to be audible, approaching from the south. Soon, Merlin could make out that there was more than one individual, and hear the unique creaking sound that leather armor made when one walked. As he watched, a dismayingly large group of men entered the clearing. The foremost man walked right up to Geren. Getting a good look at the leader's face, Merlin started. _Grost!_ thought Merlin with dismay. _He survived whatever I did._ Merlin shivered. He turned toward his friends to see them both staring at him. "He's one of them," he mouthed, pointing. "He was in the camp." Arthur's grip on his sword tightened, and he and Gwaine shifted to be ready to dart out of the tent.

"Ho there, friend," Grost began, scratching at the burn scar on his neck, "I've been told you have something of interest to us. A wooden seal with a red handle. Might have fallen into your hands a few days ago. We'll have it back now."

"We have no such thing," retorted Geren. "Best be moving on, if you wish to find it."

"Our lady says you do, friend. Give it up, and you won't be hurt."

"We have nothing to give up."

"Fine. We'll take it then." Grost said the words as his meaty fist swung at Geren's face. He was fast for such a big man, and though Geren saw it coming, he could not dodge quickly enough. The blow knocking him sprawling.

Grost had just stepped toward Geren, pulling a long heavy knife, when out of the big tent, nearly too fast to see, sped an arrow that buried itself in the man's chest. Grost fell to the ground and didn't move. Geren scrambled to his feet and readied his spear as Gwaine and Arthur burst out of the tent. Merlin followed, gripping Sven's knife which Durya had pressed into his hand. Durya slipped out behind him and surveyed the situation.

The rest of the bandits shouted with surprise as Arthur and Gwaine sliced with practiced ease into their midst and formed a triangle with Geren. In moments the three were surrounded.

"Stay back to back!" shouted Arthur. "Protect each other."

 _Emrys, can you fight?_ It was Durya's voice in his head.

 _Well, sort of. Watch._

He looked over at the wood pile. It occurred to Merlin that this was a very freeing situation, in a way. Any magic he did would be assumed to be someone else's unless he actually got caught at it. Muttering a spell, he gestured, keeping the gesture small, and a log lifted off. It zoomed through the air and whacked a bandit in the head who was trying to slip past Arthur's guard. The man staggered and crashed to his knees, to be picked off by Gwaine's sword.

 _I'm better at this than actual weapons._ He lifted the knife and shrugged, then mentally reached to bespell the next log. _But usually I have to hide it from Arthur, so I have to make everything look like a happy accident. Not today!_

Durya's eyes glittered with mischief. She spoke her own spell and reached out steadily with one hand, in a gentle lifting motion. At first Merlin could not detect anything happening, amid the general chaos and noise of the battle going on. Then he realized that the cooking pot was lifting off its hook. Merlin almost forgot to fling the log as he watched it. It shifted briskly above the bedlam until it was centered above the head of an unsuspecting bandit. Then suddenly it fell, dropping solidly on the man's unprotected head and splattering the contents of the pot everywhere. The man fell without a sound.

Merlin both winced and laughed in appreciation as he sent the next log into the fray. That cookpot looked heavy!

The cookpot zoomed up from the ground, smashing into the face of a man, and Geren took advantage of his distraction to finish him off.

Sven had stopped firing, probably afraid of hitting a friend in the mass of moving bodies. But now two pieces of clothing were detaching themselves from the clothesline and zipping forward.

Arthur spun to deflect a particularly solid blow, and Merlin realized that he was in danger of being observed. He clutched his knife, hoping Arthur would assume he'd been intent on protecting Durya with it.

The prince had the oddest expression on his face, compounded of amazement and hilarity. He watched Merlin's log sail by to strike one bandit, shook his head as the cookpot smashed down on another one, and stepped back to avoid the flailing arm of a third man who staggered aside while struggling to unwrap the tunic that had resolutely knotted itself around his head. A chuckle escaped him as his next attack was aided by a pair of breeches that wrapped around his opponent's knees. By the time Merlin could get another log in the air undetected, Arthur was simply laughing as he fought. Merlin had to admit that this might be the most preposterous example of combat he could possibly imagine.

Suddenly all levity fled for Merlin as little Katya's mental scream of terror vibrated through Merlin's whole body.

 _Emrys! The sorceress – she's here!_

All of the clothing had already fallen to the ground. The logs and cookpot dropped abruptly as Merlin flung himself into the big tent with Durya hot on his heels, expecting Morgana. Instead he came face to face with the high priestess Morgause. She stepped through a huge rip in the back of the tent, her burgundy cloak swirling around her and a wickedly serrated knife resting in her hand. Sven lay sprawled on the floor of the tent, and Katya huddled in a near corner with Kari crouched protectively before her. _East_ , Merlin berated himself savagely, _east,_ _not south_. _This_ was the danger Durya and Sven had sensed!

Merlin remembered the log, the one that was hovering just above the wood pile. He'd been about to fling it into the fray. Instead, controlling it silently with the tiniest of gestures he stepped slightly to the side. The log rocketed through the door of the tent headed straight for Morgause's aristocratic nose.

It did not strike. Morgause raised a hand, and the chunk of wood froze in midair before her.

"Well, now," she said. "Who did that?" Her fingers flicked and the wood dropped.

Merlin was not about to answer. Morgana didn't know about his magic, so presumably neither did Morgause, and he very much wanted to keep it that way. Apparently, nobody else in the tent cared to comment either. In the hush, the clash of steel and shouts of dismay suggested that the bandits were having a hard time of it, despite still outnumbering Arthur and his companions nearly two to one.

"I suppose it matters not." She paused, and surveyed the group. "You will give me the seal. Immediately."

As Merlin was frantically considering his options, Durya snapped out a spell that Merlin recognized. He was thoroughly impressed when it succeeded in blasting Morgause backward several steps, all the way out of the tent. The sorceress kept her feet, but just barely. Merlin shifted to the side a touch more so he was mostly out of Morgause's line of sight, and as Morgause opened her mouth to retaliate, he hit the priestess with the same incantation Durya had. Morgause was blasted even further backward and couldn't quite get the spell off.

With Morgause no longer threatening her daughter, Kari leaped up and reached for Sven. Her hand on his chest elicited a gasp, and Merlin winced in sympathy. Kari's healing was powerful, but it hurt.

Sven sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face as Durya sent another blast out through the rapidly shredding rear tent wall. He scrambled to his feet and came to stand next to Durya. They rapidly set up a pattern, working in tandem, taking turns, each time pushing Morgause a few feet further away, keeping her off balance and unable to strike back. Still, they were doing no real damage, and when she stopped trying to retaliate, Merlin realized that she was readying something big. Something that they did not want to let happen.

 _Durya, Sven_ , he sent, _together, with me! One, two, three, NOW_.

Three simultaneous magical blasts together lifted Morgause off her feet and slammed her forcefully into a tree. As she struggled painfully to her feet, Merlin came out of the tent.

Recognition flared in her eyes. Merlin wondered who she saw, the serving boy from Camelot or Emrys. _If she figures out that I'm Emrys…_ He dismissed the thought.

"They can do this all day, Morgause. You won't get the seal. And soon it'll be safely back in Camelot."

Morgause took one step backwards, around the tree, and reached to the sky. A sharply spoken spell created black lightning that crackled and somehow crept around her, and then she was gone.

Arthur, Gwaine, and Geren came piling around the corner of the tent.

 **Author's additional note: Hope the contrast between lighthearted logs-tunics-and-cookpots and serious frightened-children-and-evil-sorceresses wasn't too stark. But I figured that fighting alongside sorcerers would maybe get that way sometimes.**

 **Thanks to all of you wonderful people who have commented: mersan123, gaylelbf, padfootl0ve, and xsapphirexrosesxfanx and others. It's really encouraging. Thanks especially to gingeraffealene whose questions helped me catch a missing piece of information. You guys are super!**


	10. Chapter 10 - Choice

**Morgause has disappeared, Grost and two others are dead, and the rest of the bandits have fled. But there are a large number of explanations that need to be made. And where is the seal, anyway?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 10 – Choice**

Gwaine took one look at the tattered back of the tent, and whistled. "What in the world happened here?" A quick mental plea to Kari, Durya, and Sven was as much as Merlin had time for before explanations began. By the time the events were sufficiently explained, with thankfully no slips as to Merlin's involvement, the group had retreated into the large tent and seated themselves on a variety of surfaces.

"Morgause?" asked Arthur in disbelief. "This is the same one that challenged me to a duel?" Merlin nodded. "And she's a, what, a high priestess?"

"As close as there is nowadays," explained Sven. "As far as we know, the high priestesses were all killed in the Purge. But one of their Servants," his voice seemed to Merlin to capitalize the word, "saved a small group of the younglings in training, Morgause among them, and managed to hide them away. They trained each other, as much as they could with the help of the Servant who had rescued them. So, yes, she's a high priestess – consecrated to the old gods by the Servants – and she was chosen for the strength of her gift. But she's not fully trained, and probably can't ever be. There's too much that was lost, and even most of the Servants are gone."

Durya broke in. "She's not a nice woman, granted. But she's also not terrifying either. As you saw, two or three of us together can hold her off indefinitely. And generally she has no interest in us, you see."

"Speaking of which," said Geren, "she came for the seal. WE don't want it, and we will all be a great deal safer when we don't have it." He rose to his feet and crossed the tent to shoo Gwaine off the chest he was sitting on. Having raised the lid, he rummaged deeply and pulled out a brightly colored length of woven cloth, wrapped around a small object. He turned toward Arthur with it, but Kari forestalled him.

"A moment, love. May I hold it please, Sire?"

Arthur nodded, and Geren detoured to hand it to Kari.

Kari unwrapped the cloth, and surely enough there was the seal, resting innocent and helpless in her hand. "Sire, has anyone explained to you what this does?"

Arthur looked politely confused. "No, but… I wasn't aware it did anything aside from its usual function. When your little one said it was magical, I assumed she was mistaken. After all, it belongs to my father. Had he known it was magical, surely it would not have escaped the bonfires in the Purge."

Kari looked fondly at her daughter. "Her gift is quite sensitive. She was aware of the seal's arrival in the bandit camp, and knew that it had not left when the bandits did. In any case, yes, there is indeed magic here. Someone with a very powerful gift blessed it with a very specific enchantment for the Pendragons."

"When the seal is used by a scion of the Pendragon line for its intended purpose, it connects the signers of the document it seals. It strengthens in each of them their willingness and determination to uphold their agreement. A very useful implement for a king, you will agree." She handed the seal, nestled in the cloth, to the prince.

Arthur looked troubled under the mask of politeness, and Merlin was sure he knew why. The prince was a true son of the crown. If he told his father about the magic of the seal, what would the king do? Was choosing not to tell his father treason?

"Can the seal in any way harm my father?" Arthur looked from Durya to Sven to Kari as he spoke. "Is there a risk to keeping it?"

"Not as long as it in your possession, I believe." Durya was the first to respond.

"I agree," added Kari. "Though it is a tempting target for spies or thieves, as you discovered, if they know of its magic."

"Maybe there's something we can do about that," Sven said thoughtfully. "Could we create some kind of protection for it?"

"No, not protection," Durya disagreed slowly, "a disguise! A hiding place, so that it can't be found by its magic. Take the cloth," she said, pointing to the bright fabric wadded around the seal, "and turn it into a spell shroud. Contain the magic in the shroud so it can't be detected. It would still be visible to gifted senses when it's in use, of course, but not when it's wrapped."

"That, my dear, is a good idea." Sven looked enthused, then abruptly subsided. "Or Sire, if you wish the magic to be removed entirely, that could be done. Destroy even one of the symbols along the edge – right there – and the magic will be gone."

"More magic. Or no magic. Or continue as we have been."

"Essentially, yes, Sire."

There was a long pause. Merlin held his breath.

"Go ahead and make the spell shroud."

-o-o-o-o

"The spell shroud is complete, Sire," announced Durya. "Shall we test it out?"

Without waiting for an answer, she summoned Katya with a smile and a beckoning gesture. "So how did we do, little one?" Durya held out a bright bundle of cloth to Katya, who looked up at her grandmother in amazement. Merlin felt his eyebrows rising. There was no sign at all that the seal was inside that cloth. Nothing.

"It's not there at all, 'Amma. Is it?" The child tugged at the cloth until the seal was revealed – and there the magic was, as if it had never been interrupted. Merlin was impressed indeed. That was potent magic!

Durya reclaimed the bundle and, after wrapping it carefully, handed it to Arthur, who was seated with Merlin and Gwaine by the fire. "It is yours, Sire. Use it well."

"Thank you." Arthur handed it to Merlin, who held it uncertainly, not sure what the prince intended. There was a silence.

"Sire, if I may ask, what will you do about us?"

Arthur paused for a moment. Merlin had the sense that he was choosing his words with care.

"I have been among you for only a few hours. In that time, you have healed my friend for which I am most grateful – stop grinning, Merlin – at a cost to your own well-being." He looked directly at Kari, and nodded. Merlin understood the unstated 'thank you' and hoped Kari did as well.

"You have shown trust in me, revealing your gifts, first in healing, then in combat, then in spell work to protect myself and my family from those who would seek the seal. You stood against bandits beside me." A chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head and then continued. "You even stood against Morgause when you could have chosen to simply hand over the seal. You have given me helpful information about Morgause, about what she is, and what she wants. I appreciate all of those things."

"I believe I understand why you chose to help Merlin. He was quite pathetic." Arthur gave Merlin an arch look, and Merlin kicked him lightly, the action somewhat hidden by the saddlebags that were resting by their feet. "However, I would like to know why you chose to fight bandits and Morgause, and why you risked doing further magic for my benefit, knowing who I am and what the laws of the land are regarding magic."

There was a quiet moment, as Sven, Durya, Kari, and Geren exchanged glances. Merlin was sure what he was seeing in their faces was hope, and the deep breath before the plunge. The unspoken colloquy ended with Sven lifting an inviting hand to Durya.

"Sire, Morgause and the like-minded among our people would like to change our people's situation by destroying the Pendragons entirely, for vengeance, in retribution for all the lives lost in the Purge. But there is another faction, of which we are part. We believe a better way would be to instead change the hearts and minds of the people, rulers and peasants alike, so that one day those of us with gifts will be trusted rather than feared. And the best way to gain trust is to offer trust, and help, to all who ask it of us. So helping you, being who you are, helps our cause because by it we hope for a better day when you come to the throne."

Merlin had been watching Arthur while Durya spoke, and was heartened by what he saw. The prince was finding her explanation believable, and something about what she had said eased a bit of the tension in him. By the time she finished, Merlin was holding his breath for Arthur's response. Arthur's choice now might one day make the difference between a life of secrecy or one of freedom for so many people, including Merlin.

"Your lives… are yours to live as you please. I will not send soldiers to look for you, and will pass your names to the patrols under my command as free to travel in these lands. I do not wish to mislead you – I cannot be sure of protecting you if you come to the notice of my father. So for now, you should still avoid Camelot patrols. If you learn something that you believe I should know, come or send a messenger to Camelot. It will not be safe to seek an audience with me, so go to… either Merlin here or my court physician, Gaius. Either of them can bring your news to me."

Merlin had forgotten to breathe. Catching a glimpse of Gwaine's face, apparently his friend had too. Gwaine's expression was thunderstruck, and his eyebrows seemed to have found a home in his hair. Quietly, unobtrusively, Gwaine shifted his gaze to Merlin's and a small surprised smile bloomed. Merlin returned the smile and then looked back over at the prince. _He will be such a king as the world has never seen_ , thought Merlin. _He will!_

Over their interaction, the members of this little family were reacting to Arthur's pronouncement. Katya looked up, puzzled, from where she was playing in the grass, clearly aware that something had happened but having no idea what. Kari, Geren, and Sven traded glances of evident relief, and Durya smiled with something that to Merlin's eye looked like quiet pride. She looked at the prince and nodded firmly. "We are grateful, Sire. And if we hear of danger to you or yours, we will find a way to let you know."

The moment was broken by Katya, who sidled up to Gwaine with something hidden behind her back. "Put your hands out and close your eyes," she requested.

Gwaine grinned and looked at her with a mock-suspicious air. "Are you going to hand me a bug, little miss?"

"It's a surprise. You too," to Merlin, "Put your hands out and close your eyes."

Merlin did as requested. After a moment, multiple feather-light and leafy objects were set in his hands.

"Can I open my eyes now?" he asked the girl.

"Open your eyes!"

Merlin's and Gwaine's hands were filled with flowers, gathered from among the grasses.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Gwaine said with a grin. "I'll keep them forever!"

"Katya, they're very pretty. Thank you!" Merlin realized as he spoke that Katya was looking from himself to the prince in a decidedly conspiratorial manner, and that there was one more bunch of flowers at her feet. Arthur must have seen them as well, because he spoke up on a gently teasing note.

"So, young lady, don't I get any flowers?"

She reached down and scooped up the flowers, which she handed carefully to Arthur.

"But not a surprise."

"Well, thank you! They are lovely. But why not a surprise?"

"Em-Merlin said so. He said you don't like surprises!"

" _Mer_ lin!"

 **Author's note: Hope you're still enjoying the story. I know this was a slower chapter, but hopefully it answered some questions. Many, many thanks for the comments – they really do make my day!**


	11. Chapter 11 - Flowers

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 11 –** **Flowers**

Merlin hadn't noticed anything unusual about Katya's flowers on the ride back. Gwaine had tucked a single bloom into a buttonhole in his shirt with a startlingly sweet smile and stowed the rest of his flowers, wrapped in a wad of bandaging, in his saddlebags. Merlin's flowers, along with Arthur's, were folded into a cloth and safely packed by Merlin in the packs on Arthur's horse. Arthur had ridden in silence, obviously deep in thought, and Merlin had taken the opportunity to enjoy Gwaine's chatter and the beauty of the sunny woods.

After a short time of riding, the peaks of the tallest towers of the castle began to come into view above the treetops. Arthur reined in and looked at his two companions. "Merlin," he said, "It would be best if questions are not raised about what happened in the woods today. As far as anyone can know, we simply found the seal under the tree where you'd hidden it. You'll need to pretend that you aren't healed."

Gwaine interrupted. "He's got to hobble about for a few days. But everybody knows he'd come back to work as soon as he could walk."

"When we get back, I will order you to go home immediately. Act as if you are still in pain. For the next few days, people will expect you to be at least somewhat unwell – I expect you will act the part, but you will arrive _on time_ for work tomorrow."

They continued on to Camelot, and as Arthur had planned, Merlin was promptly sent home. He'd been met at the door by Gaius, whose face showed the ravages of having been worried sick. The physician insisted on looking him over. When Gaius' brief examination confirmed Merlin's assertion that he really was completely well, the healer was amazed, relieved, and eager to hear the tale. By that time, Merlin had forgotten all about the flowers.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin hadn't noticed the flowers during his first morning at work, either. Not really. Bright and early that first morning, Merlin appeared at the prince's door, having relieved the maid of the breakfast tray she'd been preparing for the prince. There was no answer to his light knock, so he slipped inside and deposited the tray on the prince's desk, nudging scrolls and papers aside to do so. The maid had mentioned an audience with the weaver's guild just before noon, and their petition was one of the items piled on the desk. Merlin set it aside and began organizing the rest of the chaos. When he was finished, he glanced over at the bed.

Arthur was still asleep, and nearly invisible, an unmoving lump buried somewhere under the bedclothes. His clothes from what appeared to be multiple previous days were strewn all over the floor. Merlin walked over with a sigh, and was about to bend down to grab the nearest item when idea occurred to him, and he paused.

After sneaking another glance at Arthur, who had still not so much as twitched, he extended his hand and whispered the incantation that would lift the shirt into his hands. It was followed in rapid succession by tunics, breeches, and several socks. Footsteps in the hallway caused him to start, however, and withdraw his hand. A rueful smile crossed his face as he imagined what Gaius would have to say about getting caught and burned at the stake for using magic to pick up dirty clothes. He sighed, hunkered down, and gathered up the rest of the clothing, grumbling quietly about princes who couldn't at least collect their laundry in one place. Turning to survey the rest of the room, his eyes lighted on the flowers Katya had given Arthur and himself. They were still looking vivid and fresh. Someone very diligent had gotten them into water right away, he reasoned.

Movement among the bedclothes drew his attention, and he turned to see that Arthur had awakened and was staring at him with a puzzled expression.

"Merlin? What in the world are you doing?" he yawned.

"Meditating, your highness," Merlin replied. "Couldn't you tell?"

"Meditating. I see. And I see that my breakfast is ready on the desk. All right, who are you and what have you done with my servant? You cannot possibly be Merlin."

Merlin laughed, and went to pull the drapes away from the windows. Arthur promptly disappeared back under the blankets.

"It's time to be getting up," Merlin prompted. "You have an audience with the weaver's guild representative in not much more than an hour, and I know you haven't reviewed their petition yet."

Arthur reappeared, staggered to his desk, sat down, and began eating with single-minded focus. After a moment, he scooped up the petition, and began to read it while continuing to eat one-handed. When he next looked up, his eyes were fully awake.

"Merlin. Set out my clothes for the audience, then go down to Monmart. Tell him I need the books for the last three months, and anything he has on past agreements with the weaver's guild. Then, when you get back, prepare my armor for drill with the knights."

The day had begun. The flowers were forgotten.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time drill began, Merlin was pleasantly tired and ready to sit for a moment. Knowing Arthur would be unlikely to need him for a while, he sought out a shaded fence rail from which he could watch the action. Gwaine came jogging across the field to join him, greeting Merlin amiably, but there was a manic twinkle in his eyes, and he was checking the vicinity for listeners.

"Gwaine, what are you up to?"

"Me? Oh, nothing at all!" the young man said, climbing up to sit next to Merlin on the top fence rail. "But have you noticed anything interesting about the flowers our little friend gave us yesterday?" He lifted the posy that he'd evidently transferred to the button hole of a clean tunic. The blossom was just as fresh as it had been the day before.

Gwaine read the realization in Merlin's eyes and laughed. "I guess we brought home more magic than we realized! Has the princess figured it out yet?"

"No. At least, not that I noticed. But they're sitting right on his table. At some point he's going to."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I could probably disappear them; you know, gather some regular ones and rotate out the enchanted ones bit by bit."

"Or you could leave them. Love to see what he decides to do about them, hmm?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was three days later when Arthur finally said something. Merlin had been standing in the prince's chambers, staring at the flowers when his thoughts were interrupted by the words, "Hallooo, idiot. Did you even hear me?" and by a brief shove that sent him stumbling sideways.

"Sorry, clotpole, did you say something?"

"What is it about those flowers? You keep staring at them like they are going to bite –" Arthur stopped suddenly, and Merlin turned to see why. Arthur was now staring fixedly at the flowers.

"Katya." The prince raised one hand to his face and closed his eyes briefly.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Enchanted." The odd note in Arthur's voice had turned into a grudging smile.

"Apparently."

There was a silence.

"What exactly does one do with enchanted wildflowers?" Arthur's tone was more amused than not.

"I have no idea, Sire. Probably the same thing one does with," Merlin lowered his voice and checked for listeners, but the door was closed, "enchanted seals and spell shrouds."

Arthur reached out and, in an uncharacteristically sentimental gesture, stroked one of the blossoms lightly with one gloved forefinger. He stood looking at it thoughtfully for a moment, and Merlin would have given much to know what he was thinking. Then he said, "They can easily be explained for now. They're just wildflowers – we can always say you gathered them. But once autumn comes, they will become much less explainable. I'll ask you to take them and hide them at that point. But for now, let's enjoy them." He shook his head, this time with a candid but wry smile. "Flowers. Logs. Cookpots. Clothing. Spell shrouds and enchanted seals. I'm surrounded by magic."

"Not such a bad thing, maybe?" _I hope._

"Hmm. Now all we need is magic that turns you miraculously into an actual servant. My clothing for dinner, Merlin? Preferably sometime before dinner?"

"Yes, Sire."

And as Merlin turned away to set out the prince's outfit, he saw Arthur pull a single bloom out of the vase, a tiny blue blossom in a froth of miniature leaves, and stand looking at it with a tender and speculative smile.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The next time Merlin saw that particular flower, it adorned the lavender dress of a certain maid in the castle. Gwen blushed when she saw Merlin's knowing grin, but smiled back nevertheless. "Arthur told me," she whispered. "He said you know that it's _enchanted_." She'd barely mouthed the word, but walked away beaming.

Gwaine's flower continued to ornament his clothing most days, and it amused Merlin to see the prince shake his head every time he saw it. That ludicrous fight, brought to mind by the combination of Gwaine and the flower, seemed to continue to astonish Arthur to no end.

One more flower had been moved from the vase in Arthur's chambers and now inhabited a jar on Gaius' table, courtesy of Merlin. The old healer had been fascinated, but though he had enjoyed poring through his books looking for a spell that might do it, in the end he had to admit that he'd no notion at all of how little Katya had accomplished such a thing.

Ordinary time seemed to settle on Merlin, who found it somewhat nerve-wracking. The seal had been moved to Arthur's quarters on the pretext that unidentified thieves had tried for it once and might try again, for reasons unknown. Many of Merlin's evenings were spent with Gwaine and Gaius, sifting through their information again and again. The words of Morgana in the spell, the visit of Morgause to the encampment, the stories and explanations received from Durya, Sven, and Kari – every scrap of it was discussed, examined, and re-discussed. It simply wasn't enough. Whatever Morgana and Morgause, or "the M's," as Gwaine called them, had hoped to get from the seal, surely they would try to achieve in some other way. And yet not knowing exactly what they wanted made it difficult to predict a likely next move. Quiet and calm pervaded the castle as late spring moved into early summer. Merlin continued to serve and wonder and to wait for the next shoe to drop.

When it did, it did so very softly, in the form of a message that was slipped under Gaius' and Merlin's door one night.

 _M intends to kidnap the king sometime in midsummer._

 _Believe there to be a spy, recently placed, in king's household._

 _Will be out of contact. Please don't try to find us just now._

 _-D_

Gaius and Merlin exchanged glances. The next move, it appeared, was theirs.

 **Author's note: Hope you are still enjoying this story, and that this chapter isn't too fluffy. Those flowers took over my brain! The next couple of chapters will be about finding the spy, and will get Merlin, Gwaine, and sometimes Arthur back out of the castle and into trouble. Please let me know if I've messed something up, or there's something you really liked - comments are wonderful!**

 **This is as far as I had written originally, without the note from Durya. I now have some ideas for where to go next – hence the note. But those ideas are still in outline form, so updates are going to slow down. Also, the school year is about to start, and I've got to get my classroom ready, so I have less time to devote to writing this month. But I promise I have the whole story outlined, so it'll eventually be done.**


	12. Chapter 12 - Spy

**Merlin has been warned of Morgause's spy in their midst, and her plan to kidnap the king. Now the trick is to identify the spy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 12 –** **Spy**

Merlin stood behind Arthur's right shoulder in the king's private dining chamber as his prince and the king ate, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Uther always made him a little nervous, but knowing that other people's secrets were resting on him was making it worse. Though at least standing formally at attention BEHIND Arthur meant that the prince couldn't kick him under the table if he fidgeted too much.

Quite a bit of planning had gone into this audience. Gaius, Merlin and Gwaine had read and re-read Durya's short note. The picture had become clearer with that bit of information. Now they knew what purpose Morgana, and by extension Morgause had for the telepathic link offered by the seal: Knowing when the king planned to be out of the castle and vulnerable would make a kidnapping much easier to plan. Morgause must have placed the spies as backup. Now they would be her primary source of information.

They had debated what should be shared with Arthur, and decided that nearly everything had to be except for Morgana's complicity. Merlin wasn't sure whether he didn't have the heart to hurt Arthur that way, or didn't have the courage to find out whether Arthur would even believe him or not.

When informed of their theories and the note that had given rise to them, Arthur listened quietly. He reluctantly suggested that it was best not to name Morgause to the king at this time. Any mention of the sorceress who had 'stolen' Morgana would be like oil on the pyre. The king's wrath might fall on innocents, as it often had recently in Uther's efforts to locate his ward. Arthur had decided to speak with his father over a private midday meal.

After what seemed to be an eternity of quiet decorous dining, Uther nudged his plate away, and the servant at his elbow silently disappeared with it. Once the servant was safely gone, Arthur broached the subject Merlin had been waiting for.

"Father, Gaius has brought something to my attention. You are of course aware that Gaius makes contacts in his duties that gain him access to the rumors both inside and outside the palace. He came to me this morning with a scrap of information he was given recently." The prince adroitly explained that an informant had come to Gaius saying that an attempt to kidnap Uther was being planned, and that in aid of that plan, a spy had been placed in the king's household.

"Arthur," said the king dismissively, "there are always threats to a king. You will learn this. And as for spies… does Gaius' informant know whose spy?"

"No, father. Only that one was placed recently."

"Vague. It is probably nothing but rumor. Nonetheless, you will investigate, and quietly. If a spy is present in my staff, you will not catch him if he knows you are aware of him."

"Have there been any new additions to the household recently?"

Uther frowned. "I'm sure I don't know, Arthur. They are servants. But you may ask my steward for the information. I am sure he can tell you."

Between the steward's excellent memory and access to his records, Gaius and Merlin discovered that not many people had been hired to serve in the king's household recently. In fact, most of the folk serving him had been in those positions for years or even decades. There were only two recent additions to the king's staff: Thomas Hamson and Benjamin of Tyndale. The names were not familiar to Merlin, but that was not unexpected. Merlin had little free time, and probably neither did Thomas or Benjamin.

When Gaius and Merlin presented their findings to Arthur, he thought for several moments before he spoke. "I will ask Father to lend me Thomas and Benjamin to take on a hunt tomorrow. Stay out of sight until we have left. While I am gone, you and Gaius search each of their quarters. Get Gwaine to play lookout. If anyone asks, you are dealing with a rodent infestation."

As it turned out, the search of both Thomas' and Benjamin's rooms was boring and fruitless. As servants assigned to the king, both men did have their own space, but the tiny rooms had only a bed and a chest that doubled as a low table, and were barely big enough to house those two items. Nothing in either room seemed unusual. Neither servant owned a book or any written papers. Nothing was hidden in either room, and the clothing of both men seemed very ordinary and appropriate to their stations. With only Gaius and Gwaine present, Merlin even attempted a summoning spell in each room to draw magical objects to him. When he tried it in the first of the rooms, Gwaine's flower zoomed out of his coat and into Merlin's hands, but nothing else moved. Merlin looked warily at Gwaine, afraid of seeing discomfort, but the young man just laughed and retrieved his flower. In the second room, Gwaine pretended to be dragged across the room by his flower. But there was no magic, and nothing suspicious, in either room.

"Merlin," said Gwaine thoughtfully, "maybe we're looking in the wrong place. What if the spy is a soldier? A soldier could even help the attackers when the kidnapping takes place, whereas a servant might not even be asked to come along, depending on where the king was going."

Gaius was able to smooth the way with the captain of the king's guard, a grizzled campaigner named Caleb Matthews, who was indignant that a spy might have penetrated their ranks and insisted on helping to root out the traitor. A thorough search of the barracks of the king's guard was undertaken, aided by the captain who was a bit underfoot and had to be distracted at one point so Merlin could summon magic objects. Merlin's spell yielded nothing, but the search of the soldiers' belongings generated something unexpected. Concealed deep in the bottom of one man's chest of personal belongings was a narrow black armband with an odd insignia. Gwaine and Merlin exchanged confused glances – neither of them had ever seen it before – but the sharpening of Gaius' gaze indicated that he knew exactly what the insignia meant.

Captain Matthews took one look and growled. "Blood Guard! Soldier of the High Priestesses?" He looked both furious and worried. "What would Jamison Tanner be doing with that? The Blood Guard doesn't even exist anymore!" He started to walk to the door, opening his mouth to shout for something, but Gaius stopped him.

"Wait, Caleb. I have an idea. Let's see if we can scare your Jamison Tanner into showing us if he has any accomplices, hmm?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin watched from his hiding place as the night shift came on duty. The armband had been shown to the men, and it had been explained that it was found in the barracks laundry. Captain Matthews had demanded that the owner come forward and explain himself. No one had. The matter had ostensibly been let to drop, and the men had been sent back to their duties. Merlin had supplied himself with a mop and bucket which he had used to hide in plain sight through the evening, and had also scoped out a narrow hallway in which he could conceal himself if needed. He was watching. If Jamison went anywhere, Merlin would know.

Jamison had returned from his watch and entered the barracks some time ago, and soon the flow of men in and out quieted. Merlin ghosted closer to the barracks door and listened. There was no sound from inside. _Soldiers know to sleep when they can_ , he thought. Then footsteps, soft ones, from inside the barracks caused him to scoot back to his hiding place. He was just in time, for no sooner was he back in hiding than the door opened, and Jamison came out. He was carrying a small lantern, partially hooded but still flooding the corridor with light. Merlin shrank back into the hallway he'd hidden in. The footsteps paused. Merlin waited.

Soon the footfalls began again, moving off in the opposite direction. Merlin followed stealthily at a distance, trying to stay as far back as he could without losing his prey entirely. About halfway down the corridor, movement in another little hallway ahead of him caused Merlin's heart to nearly stop.

Merlin froze.

Then Gwaine stepped silently out of the shadows. Merlin's friend jumped like a scalded cat when he saw Merlin, then grinned and pantomimed pounding his chest. Merlin grinned back, but pointed ahead and mouthed, "Jamison."

Gwaine nodded. They followed Jamison across the lower level of the castle, aided by the light of the soldier's lantern. The man was winding his way through the hallways toward the servants' cells. Merlin was a bit surprised. He'd expected Jamison's accomplice, if any, to be outside the castle. Soon they caught up and had to back up and take cover around the bend in the hallway, for Jamison had evidently reached his destination: the room of Thomas Hamson.

Jamison's light winked out as he entered the room and the door closed behind him, leaving the hallway nearly pitch black except for a tiny sliver of lantern light seeping out from underneath the door. Merlin softly breathed a spell, and a tiny ball of light bloomed in his hand. It floated an inch above his palm, its pearly surface seeming to flow gently, dimly lighting the hallway. Merlin tilted a tentative look at Gwaine, who returned a somewhat stern look that Merlin couldn't quite fathom and then pointed with his chin toward Thomas' door.

They silently approached and put their ears to the door. Inside, an angry but barely audible conversation was going on.

"…be so stupid? Why did you even have it with you? Never mind. What's done is done. Just go back to bed. I'll deal with it."

"But what about the armband? They'll be suspicious."

"What about it? It's a good thing you lost it. If it had been in your chest, you'd be in a cell. At least in the laundry it can't be traced back to you. Do your job. And of course, don't claim the cursed thing."

"I'm not stupid!"

"No? Well, then start acting like it."

"But what about-"

"Go back to bed. You are endangering both of us. Go. Now."

Merlin and Gwaine scrambled back from the door and down the hall, cramming themselves into the first place they could find, an inset doorway several doors down. Merlin curled his other hand around his light, feeling the coolness of it sliding around against his palm. They were barely concealed before Jamison came storming out of Thomas' room. He stalked back down the corridor toward the barracks and soon disappeared from view.

Merlin allowed himself to slide down the wall to land with a soft thump on the floor. He uncovered the light enough to see Gwaine's face in the dimness. Gwaine had crouched and then shifted out to the edge of their niche to watch in the direction of Thomas' room. He glanced at Merlin.

"What do you think he'll do?" Gwaine asked in the softest of whispers.

"Don't know," replied Merlin, "but it sounded like he'll just sit tight."

"Should probably watch to be sure."

Merlin thought about the servants' quarters. They were all underground, and therefore had no windows. If Thomas had a way to contact Morgause, it would have to be a physical message of some sort. Not even Merlin could mind-speak over distances long enough to clear the castle walls. So Thomas would need access to the outdoors at the very least. Watching his room overnight should at least tell them whether he'd attempted to make contact.

"I'll take first watch," Merlin offered. "Come switch with me in, what, three hours? Four?"

"Alright, mate. But if he tries to leave the castle, you come get me. Better to lose him than to go alone, _right_?" Gwaine gave him a stern look.

Merlin had to smile. "I'll come get you. But same goes, when it's your turn."

"All right then, I'll see you in three hours."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The night passed uneventfully. Apparently Thomas was taking his own advice and continuing as though nothing was wrong. Gwaine, yawning, showed up in the morning having tailed Thomas until he reported for duty in the king's chambers.

"Nothing, mate. Not one step outside of 'this is just an ordinary day'."

"So now we need to scare Thomas! Because I bet he'll show us how to get to Morgause."

"We want to get to Morgause?"

"Well, maybe not!"

 **Author's note: Hope you liked the chapter! Thanks to everyone who commented on the previous chapter – you totally made my day. And thank you also to those who have followed the story – I think it means I must be doing something at least a little bit right!**


	13. Chapter 13 - Mage

**Two spies have been found. One of them is a bit more interesting than he appears.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 13 –** **Mage**

Merlin and Gwaine watched, pretending to unload their armloads of mops, buckets, rags, as Thomas walked casually into one of the guest suites in the upper levels. There were presently no guests in the castle of the sort that would merit the luxurious suites on this level, so there were no other servants around.

"Perfect!" said Merlin in an undertone. "That's one of the ones that has a listening post."

"The guest quarters have listening posts?" Gwaine frowned. "Charming. Spying on your guests. Just the thing to do if you're the king, I suppose."

"Not all of them do. But luckily this one does. Come on!" He led the way farther down the hallway, and opened a door. Inside was a closet full of linens. Merlin felt along the back of the closet, looking for a trigger.

"Where is the stupid thing?" he muttered. "Thomas could be doing anything right now." He looked at the young man standing next to him. Merlin hadn't really realized how many times a day he used magic for the little things – like the light last night. He hoped he wasn't making Gwaine uncomfortable. Gwaine had been so very accepting of the idea that Merlin had magic, but seeing him do it might be different.

Still, they needed to get into the secret passage right now. Merlin sighed, glanced again around the otherwise empty hallway, gave Gwaine an apologetic look, and cast the spell. The linens moved aside, exposing the switch to his view. He slid it inward, and the back of the closet swung in and away.

"Come on," he whispered. "In here."

Closing the door behind them until it almost latched, Merlin and Gwaine moved as silently as they could along the narrow dark corridor. It was small, not so very much wider than Merlin's shoulders, and full of cobwebs and stale air. Merlin could feel webs tickling his face and neck and catching on his eyelashes and nose. He brushed them off in disgust and felt his way deeper into the darkness, waving his arms before his face to avoid collecting any more webs. There were tiny slits of daylight coming through at about eye level at four regular intervals on each side of the passage. Merlin moved down to the farthest one while Gwaine's shadow crossing a slit suggested he'd tried one of the middle ones. Merlin put his eye to the slit, and could see Thomas.

Thomas had gone to the window and set a leather satchel on the wide stone ledge. He unlatched the leaded glass windows, and pushed them wide to let in the afternoon air. Then, returning his attention to the satchel, he opened it and withdrew an ornate metal box studded with colored stones and carved with runes all around the base. _He must have had that hidden somewhere up here._ Merlin thought. _We searched his room! It wasn't there._

Thomas opened the box, and raised his hand toward it. Then to Merlin's amazement he softly spoke a very familiar spell. As Thomas' eyes glowed yellow, the contents of the box crackled and a tiny flame rose from within the box. Thomas reached into the satchel again and withdrew a scrap of parchment and a pen and ink. He dipped the tip of the pen into the flames then the ink. After writing a few words on the parchment, he picked the parchment up gingerly with thumb and index finger, and began to proffer it to the flames. Merlin realized that probably if that parchment got into the flames, the message was sent. If he was going to act, the time was now.

For this, Merlin didn't even need a spell. The magic just welled up in him, and the paper moved. It jerked itself out of Thomas' hand and fluttered to the floor. As Thomas reached for it, a puzzled look on his face, the scrap moved again, as if blown by a capricious breeze. Leading Thomas a merry chase away from the window gave Merlin a moment to consider what to do. Thomas could probably lead them to Morgause, but would only go to Morgause if he couldn't send the message, or if he were panicked enough. _The box! Get rid of the box, and Thomas can't send his message. Not to mention it should shake him up a bit if it vanishes._

Merlin divided his attention. The paper blew itself under the door to the hallway, and Merlin released it. Meanwhile, using the spell he'd heard Durya use, he lifted the box carefully, gently, unobtrusively out the window. He had lifted it out of sight and tucked it onto the ledge formed by the stonework along the top of the window when he realized that Thomas had walked back into the room and was staring directly toward him, as if through the wall, from a distance of no more than five feet. Merlin could hear Gwaine dashing out through the secret door, but was riveted in disbelief as Thomas spoke.

"I can feel you there, sorcerer. I don't know why I can't see you, but you won't stop me," Thomas said, and snapping out the spell, unleased a blast of magic into the air between himself and the wall. Even through the wall Merlin could feel the push of it. Merlin retaliated, but met an unexpected difficulty. It felt as if his magic had slid around Thomas rather than hitting him straight on. Thomas rocked backward, but only that. Merlin set his teeth and cast again, this time with everything he had. This time the spell was fully successful. Thomas was blasted off his feet. He smashed into the wall and slid down, badly stunned. Gwaine's sword hilt to his head ushered him the rest of the way into oblivion.

Merlin slipped out of the listening post and joined Gwaine, who quirked him a grin. "He's being very cooperative." Merlin, looking at Thomas unconscious on the floor, had to agree.

"For now. Let's see what we can do to maybe tie him up or something."

Gwaine surveyed the room and his eyes settled on the heavy cords currently gathering the inner curtains to either side of the window. "How 'bout those?"

"Sounds good."

As Gwaine worked the cords loose, Merlin walked to the window and, leaning out, craned his neck and twisted to look up. He could see one corner of the box hanging over the edge of the stone ledge above him. Standing on the windowsill he might be able to reach it, but just barely – while hanging four stories up over a paved courtyard. Merlin shook his head, and pulled his head back in the window. He gave Gwaine a quick guilty look, then spoke the spell to float the box back down into his hands. When he turned away from the window, Gwaine was looking at him grimly.

"Merlin, you've got to stop doing that." At Merlin's look of worried inquiry, Gwaine clarified, "Every time you use magic, you look at me like I'm going to bite your head off. You have to stop."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Merlin felt his shoulders curl inward.

"No. Mate, that's what I'm saying." Gwaine took a step closer and set a hand on Merlin's shoulder and spoke gently and unexpectedly seriously. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You have magic. You use it to support Arthur, protect your friends, and defend the kingdom. Those are good things. You don't need to apologize for using magic to do them. Not to me. And really you shouldn't have to apologize to anybody for it. So you need to stop looking at me like you've committed a crime every time you do magic."

"Every time I do magic, I _have_ committed a crime," said Merlin sadly. Then slanting a look up a Gwaine, he added quietly, "And I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're not making me uncomfortable. Truly. Stop worrying." Gwaine let go, and bumped Merlin's shoulder with his own, staggering him slightly. "It's entertaining, actually. Did you see? Thomas actually missed the paper four times before he got suspicious. Pretty funny." The young man turned his attention back to the limp form on the floor.

"So, what now?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

They decided to leave Thomas, tied up, on the floor where he'd fallen. A search of the room had revealed a small wooden chest under the bed that contained a roll of unused parchment and a razor-sharp dagger. The scrap of parchment, when retrieved, read "Intends to travel to Caerleon Friday." Gwaine suggested leaving all as it was. It would take Thomas time to awaken, and then more time to extricate himself from his bonds. It would give Merlin and Gwaine time to prepare. Gwaine cracked the sorcerer in the head one more time for good measure and then they left to inform Gaius and Arthur.

Gaius, when alerted, began packing for Merlin while Gwaine threw together his own pack. Arthur, after inspecting the chest, the room, Thomas, and the magical box, set a guard at the foot of the stairs with orders to keep all staff out of the guest areas and inform him discreetly when Thomas came down. Next he sent Merlin to turn the box over to Gaius for study and then set Merlin to packing. He also ordered Jamison Tanner to be quietly arrested and imprisoned, and informed the king that Tanner had been found with the insignia of the Blood Guard. Uther was furious and almost gave orders to execute Tanner immediately, but was persuaded to wait for Arthur to finish his investigation.

By the time Thomas emerged, all was in readiness. As far as most in the castle knew, the prince and his attendants, Merlin and Gwaine and three guardsmen, were just about to leave on another hunt.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin, at Arthur's orders, lingered over the loading of the horse's saddlebags until one of guardsman came rushing back. He saluted Arthur hurriedly and at Arthur's nod reported in a low voice. "He's on foot, sire, and has just left through the west gate of town. My partner is staying behind him, and will meet you just outside the west gate when he's sure of the direction he's taken."

"Understood. Mount up. Merlin, strap that down and let's be off."

The group rode through town and out through the west gate, where they were met by the second guard.

"He kept to the road until just past that little rise – See, sire, where the copse of trees juts out? – and then went right into the trees. You're about two minutes behind him."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It soon became apparent that Thomas was following a path, and a frequently used one at that. As dusk fell, it seemed that Thomas was stopping for the night. Arthur sent one guard on to continue to watch Thomas, and ordered the two remaining guards to withdraw a good ways and set up a camp. Soon the guard returned, with the report that Thomas appeared to have settled down for the night, had made a campfire and was eating food from his pack. They took turns through the night watching him, but Thomas did nothing but sleep.

Very early the next morning the prince informed the guards of his plans. "You will stay here with the horses. Gwaine and I will follow Thomas to his destination, scout it out and return." He saw Merlin looking at him. "Merlin will go with me. You three pack up the camp and be ready when I return."

The guardsmen seemed uncomfortable with that arrangement. However, when one man ventured to say, "But sire, for your safety-" Arthur froze him with an icily arrogant look and the man gave it up. Soon the three were on their way.

They followed Thomas through the forest for another three hours, staying as far back as they possibly could without losing the man. Thomas seemed to know the way well, but clearly wasn't in the habit of walking long distances. He stopped often to rest, often taking off his shoes when he did so. After one such break, when he had put his shoes back on, instead of following the path, he stepped off into the forest. Winding their way through the undergrowth in his wake, Merlin noticed far ahead the broken tops of ancient stone walls. He pointed them out to Arthur.

"The old keep of Lord Ingerham," the prince whispered back. "It's in utter ruins, as far as I know. But it appears that that is where Thomas is going."

Far ahead, Thomas paused. Arthur signaled for a halt. Thomas was standing in front of a pair of stacked stone pillars, partially fallen. He reached out and stroked the air in front of him, and said something aloud. From the back and at a distance, his words were unclear, muffled by the wind and the soft sounds of the forest. But then, as if he had done nothing unusual, he walked on, passing between the pillars and into the more open space beyond.

Arthur waited until Thomas had gotten well ahead, as his destination appeared quite clear, and then moved on. They approached the pillars carefully and slowly, looking ahead, scanning the forest for watchers, guards, movement. There was nothing.

Gwaine had moved somewhat ahead and started to cross between the stones. As he did so, it was as if he had walked into a wall. His head appeared to bounce off an unseen surface and the unexpected impact knocked him backwards several steps. Arthur leapt forward, setting himself protectively in front of Gwaine. All three of them stared at the space between the pillars. There was still nothing there.

After a frozen moment, Arthur extended a gloved hand. His face registered astonishment, and his hand flattened as if against a wall. Merlin moved up next to him and reached out as well. There was indeed a surface. It felt slick and stretchy, like flexible glass, and slightly cool in the midmorning air. Merlin pushed tentatively, and it seemed to tighten, getting thicker and stronger the more muscle Merlin applied. Beside him, Arthur was doing the same. Merlin could see his muscles bunch even under the armor as the prince braced his feet and pitted his full strength against the barrier. It bowed, but only so far. It did not give way.

Gwaine had gone around to the other side of one of the pillars, arms extended. He stopped, hands flat.

"It's here too." He walked along, sliding his hands along the invisible surface. Merlin moved to the other side and did the same. Between them, they traced the wall in a slow convex arc. Before they got too far away, Arthur called them back.

"A magical barrier." He paused, looking in frustration at the unseen obstacle. "Stay together. We will trace it full circle if we can, and at least know its size. And perhaps there are gaps in it. We will see."

But as Merlin hitched up his pack, and they prepared to move out, there was a soft sound in the distance, approaching from behind them. He reaching for Arthur's arm and pointed. The prince nodded and gestured. _Hide_.

After a minute or so, two figures came in to view. As the first turned to come around a tree, Merlin could see a face. It was Durya – and behind her, Sven. _Emrys,_ Merlin heard, _you're here! How did you know to come? We think this is where they've taken Kari!_

 **Author's note: Was this chapter worth reading? Hope so! Let me know – comments, even if they're very short, are VERY encouraging and wonderful, questions are helpful, and constructive criticism is welcome: I really do go back and fix things when I find them or have them pointed out to me!**


	14. Chapter 14 - Lightning

_Note: My apologies if anybody got two notifications for this chapter: I was having massive technical difficulties, and had to delete it and reupload. Also, I made a retroactive change: Blood Guard = Black Guard._

 **Morgause has been found, Kari has been taken, but they are both behind a powerful magical barrier. Can Durya and Sven help? Or do they need help?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 14 –** **Lightning**

 _How did you know to come? We think this is where they've taken Kari!_

Clearly, an exchange of information was needed. Merlin nearly answered Durya's mental question aloud, but caught himself in time. In the flurry of audible questions and answers that followed, the chain of events came clear. Kari had been taken in the night, straight from her tent, by Morgause. Durya's people were gathering to try to take Kari back. The ruined keep had been under surveillance for three days now, but the barrier had prevented any exploration. Durya and Sven had come to inspect the magical barrier to decide what could be done.

"Do you know how many soldiers she has?" asked Arthur.

"We are unsure, but we believe at least seventy or so. There have been patrols of ten to twelve going and coming, at least four of those, and a new group of thirty just arrived about three hours ago. The members of the patrols wear the insignia of the Blood Guard. But the newcomers bear no mark at all, though they carry themselves like soldiers."

Arthur mulled this information over for a thoughtful moment and then began giving orders.

"Gwaine, Merlin, get ready to go back to camp as quickly as possible. We will pick up the horses, and head with all speed for Camelot. I will gather as many knights as can be called up on short notice, and lead them back here. If Morgause is here, and has Kari here, she may have Morgana prisoner here too."

"Sire," interjected Durya, "may I make a request? Could Merlin stay with us and meet you here when you return? We would guarantee his safety among our people, and he can communicate our plans to you when you arrive."

Arthur considered her narrowly, then turned a subtle questioning gaze to Merlin. Merlin nodded silently, and Arthur returned his stare to Durya.

"As a member of my staff, he may be at risk among your people. You can promise me that he will not be endangered by this?"

"I can."

"I hold you responsible for him."

"Arthur, I'm not a child," Merlin objected. "And I can take care of myself."

"You don't even have a sword."

"Since when do I need one?"

"That's right, you can hide behind trees."

"Prat."

"Idiot. We'll be back with reinforcements by morning." Arthur cuffed him lightly across the head; Gwaine bumped his shoulder and winked. Then they both strode off into the forest, and were quickly out of sight.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Durya and Sven spent some time examining the barrier. Merlin could not detect that they did anything to it, and Durya confirmed that when she sighed and said, "Best not to let her know we're here. And if I cast a spell on it, she'll know. Let's head back to camp."

Durya turned away from the barrier and led the way, winding through the forest along a game trail that wandered at an angle away from the ruined keep. Merlin found himself chatting with Sven, and the conversation wound its way to Katya's flowers. Upon hearing the story, Sven rubbed his forehead and ahead of them Merlin could hear Durya sigh. "With that child," said Sven, "you never quite know what's going to happen next. Magic just sort of spills out of her all the time. I think half the time she doesn't even know she's done it." The forest had thinned a bit as they walked, and now the game trail disappeared as it entered a broad green meadow. Durya dropped back to walk alongside Sven.

"Luckily," she added, "her impulses are always kindhearted, and so is her magic."

Merlin suddenly remembered the spies they'd uncovered, and the strange resistance to magic he'd discovered in Thomas. When he described the experience to Sven and Durya, they exchanged surprised glances.

"I think you've uncovered a Servant," said Sven. "And a newly trained one, too. There weren't many left after the Purge and all of them my age or older."

"Servants," prompted Merlin. "Who are they? _What_ are they?"

"Before the Purge, the Servants were the sorcerers who functioned as the high priestesses magical protectors, assistants, spies, and so on, just as the Blood Guard provided physical protection. They were highly trained, and some of them were powerful in their own right, equal to the high priestesses though not consecrated to the gods. That effect you described, of magic sliding off of Thomas, that's a Servant's spell. A spell shield that powerful can be used to protect yourself or someone else. We were taught it to protect the priestesses…" He paused abruptly mid-sentence, then finished the sentence with an air of determination, "and ourselves in battle."

At the word 'we' Durya stopped and turned to Sven. He reached out and took her hand, stroking the back gently with his thumb.

"I spill my own secrets, my dear."

Durya said nothing for a moment, searching Sven's eyes, then seemed to shake herself slightly. She turned her attention to Merlin.

"Speaking of secrets, Emrys, I assume you want to keep yours. I had been thinking about you, and I made this for you." She dug into a pouch at her belt, and withdrew what seemed to be an acorn strung on a leather cord. When she handed it to Merlin, it seemed heavy for its size, and felt harder than it should, almost as if it had been turned to stone.

"You need a disguise. A way to be Emrys sometimes and Merlin sometimes, particularly here and now. This should do that for you. When you speak the spell," and she pronounced it for him, "all will see you as someone else. Try it now."

Merlin settled himself, closed his eyes and voiced the spell. He felt the quick slap of effort, and knew something had happened, but was not aware of any change until he looked down at his hands. His palms were broader, the backs dotted with blonde hair and weathered from sun. He looked up at Durya and Sven. Sven seemed surprised, Durya somehow pleased and distantly sad at the same time.

"I needed a form for you," she said quietly. "So I chose the form of my father as I remember him from many years ago, when I was a little child. You will not be recognized, for few live who still remember him, and they would be expecting to see a very old man." She paused, tilted her head and examined Merlin closely. "Your eyes didn't change, but everything else did. It was work well done, if I do say so myself."

Merlin spoke very gently. "Durya, how do you know how to do these things?"

"Training. Long ago. Now, Emrys, there are other spells that I think you would like to know. Let's begin with lightning. I can cast it by calling a storm. You, I believe, will be able to cast it from clear blue sky. Shall we try?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Durya was done with him, Merlin had learned several new uses for his magic. Most of them were fun, but lightning was just plain scary – Merlin wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to use it any time soon. The shield spell, well, he'd been so close. _Every time I've dodged a magical attack I felt something,_ thought Merlin _. That's what my magic was trying to do: make a shield._ And both of those, by the end of the afternoon, Merlin could cast without speaking. Sven clapped him on the back.

"Not everyone can do that, Emrys. In fact, few can. Then again, you _are_ Emrys."

The lesson having ended for the afternoon, Durya and Sven brought Merlin to a bustling encampment in the forest on the other side of the meadow. Geren was there, and at first Merlin couldn't understand why Geren was greeting him as if he were a stranger. Then he remembered that he was still in "Emrys" form. Durya whispered something in Geren's ear which made Geren laugh and come to clasp Merlin's forearm warmly in a warrior's greeting. "Hello, Merlin!" he whispered as he did so.

Merlin was introduced as Emrys, and generally welcomed, though some of the men kept trying to challenge him to various tests of magic. After a first defeat that lead to helpless laughter at finding leafy green vines growing rapidly out of his head, he caught the way of it. The next several matches resulted in opponents coughing up frogs, sprouting long grey beards, becoming magnets for empty pots and pans, or finding their knees stuck together. The shield spell, cast silently, had come in handy, and by the time the evening meal was ready, Emrys seemed to be welcomed all round – and respected.

Merlin was wiping the last of the stew out of his bowl with the last of a fresh hearth cake when a disturbance was raised from the meadow-side of the encampment. A young man, perhaps Gwaine's age, sprinted up to where Durya and Sven were sitting side-by-side on a log by the cook fire, and spoke urgently.

"Something's happening. That one large group of soldiers is leaving – all thirty men – and they have Kari with them. They are coming more or less this way, three on horseback, the rest on foot. I'm only minutes ahead of them."

The camp simply boiled. Everywhere people were moving. Men and women grabbed weapons, donned any armor they had, and gathered around Durya.

"Lead us to them," she said to the young man, and he turned to go, with Durya, Sven, Merlin, Geren, and most of the rest of the camp following.

The young man led them to the place in the meadow where Merlin, Durya, and Sven had entered it the day before. The warriors hid themselves in the undergrowth and behind the nearest trees on either side of the trail leading to the meadow, while the magic users found concealment a little farther away.

The wait was short, and the expected troop was soon in view. A horseman in black leather armor was leading, followed by several more men on foot, wearing the same kind of armor. In the center of the group, Kari was sitting astride another horse, hands tied to the saddle. That horse was being led by another soldier, and followed by the remaining soldiers, the last of those ahorse. Merlin remembered Durya's comment about the party of the thirty that had arrived a few hours before. She'd said they moved like soldiers. _She's right,_ thought Merlin, _and not only that, look at that armor – all alike. Something's odd here. They aren't brigands, but not wearing the Blood Guard insignia either. What is going on here?_

When the front of the party was about to enter the meadow, and the rest of the party still strung out along the game trail, Durya shouted, "Now!"

There was a swift flight of arrows, and then battle cries as the men and women who had concealed themselves by the trail erupted from their hiding places and attacked the soldiers. Geren, near the head of the line, used his spear to neatly skewer the front rider. The horse, startled, reared and ran out into the meadow. Most of the other attackers, however, hadn't had quite the same effect. Leather armor had turned aside many of the inexpert blows, and now the soldiers turned to fight.

Merlin reared up and blasted two men into trees. _What is it about that that's so satisfying?_ he wondered. Beside him, Durya had done the same to another of the soldiers, and another man beyond her was tossing sticks into the air and sending them rocketing at his opponents' heads. Sven and three other bowmen were sending arrow after arrow into the fray.

Durya's man to Merlin's other side, Merlin realized, was behaving somewhat oddly. He had stood up, stock still, and was staring fixedly at the horse on which Kari was riding. Kari, taking advantage of the distraction, was working at her bonds, trying to get herself untied, or at least detach the ropes from the saddle. The horse had raised its head, whickered, and now it tried to move toward the sorcerer watching it so intently. The soldier attending the animal grabbed its bridle and it obediently subsided.

 _That man needs to go_ , thought Merlin, and suiting action to words, chose that man as his next target. The soldier was blasted off far into underbrush, landing with a crunch. The horse, freed from his hand, ambled calmly through the trees to the sorcerer and stood still, allowing the man to cut Kari free and help her down. Then Geren was there, appearing as if out of the ether and crushing Kari to his chest. Merlin smiled, and turned to survey the battle.

Durya's warriors were winning, but only by sheer strength of numbers. Many of her fighters were down, either injured or dead. Of the soldiers in the black leather armor, there were only three still standing, two of which went down as even as Merlin watched. One soldier, however, had taking down his opponent, and was standing in the clear, at the edge of the meadow. He surveyed the situation and evidently came to some conclusion about it, for he turned and looked into the meadow. One of the horses was nearby. He ran up to it, vaulted into its saddle, gathered up the reins, turned it, and began to flee across the meadow.

Durya turned, and saw the escaping soldier. "Garth! Call it! Call the horse!" she shouted to the man on Merlin's other side.

Garth stared after the fleeing horse for a moment, then shook his head, "Too far – can't get in!" He took off running toward the meadow, as if hoping to close the gap.

Merlin tried to blast the escaping soldier out of the saddle, but couldn't quite reach.

They were fast running out of options. Merlin could still reach the man with lightning, but didn't want to do it. Something in him shrank at the thought of that death. It was a little too much like the pyre. Nonetheless, the man was getting farther away by the moment, his horse now running at its fastest gallop. Clouds were gathering in the dusky sky. Merlin remembered Durya saying she could only cast lightning by calling a storm, but it was going to take too long. Merlin made a decision.

He spoke the spell aloud for maximum control, and the lightning slammed down right in front of the horse's nose. The terrified animal tried to both plant its front feet and turn at the same time. Its rider, taken by surprise, flew off the horse's back and hit the ground with a sharp crack and a thud. He did not move. The battle appeared to be over.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time they had gotten everything sorted out, it was late at night. There was one prisoner, who was currently bound and gagged and being ignored. The wounded had been brought to shelter, and Kari had healed the worst of them with Geren hovering nearby. When she stood up and then staggered, after healing a woman who had taken a dagger clear through her arm, Geren had simply wordlessly scooped his wife up and walked out. Merlin had helped to bandage and dose the others, and they were resting as comfortably as could be expected. The three horses had been coaxed back to camp and tethered there, and the dead on both sides had been laid out, to be dealt with in the morning. Merlin fell into the space he'd been allotted in Durya's and Sven's tent and was asleep almost before he'd closed his eyes. Hopefully he'd get a bit of sleep before Arthur arrived the next morning.

 **Author's note: Hope you are enjoying the story! Please comment – it makes my day! The next chapter will cover the assault on the barrier and reunite our trio of boys. We're nearing the end of my tale – probably 2 or so chapters left depending on how I decide to split things up.**


	15. Chapter 15 - Barrier

**Kari has been rescued. Arthur is on his way with reinforcements, but they will only be of use if Merlin, Durya, and Sven can take down the barrier.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 15 –** **Barrier**

Very early the next morning, Merlin was awakened by Geren. "Come," he said, "the elders are gathering to make plans. Durya ordered that you were to be included." He shoved something into Merlin's hand and exited the tent.

Merlin climbed to his feet and followed, smelling the scent of warm dough rising from the item in his hand. His mouth watering, he took a bite and discovered that it was flatbread, soft and warm from the fire, wrapped around some delicious kind of sausage. _Breakfast!_ he thought. _Really good breakfast! And I didn't even have to make it myself!_

Geren led him to one of the two fire pits near the center of the camp. Around it were seated six people in addition to Durya and Sven, both men and women, mostly Durya's and Sven's ages. Durya met Merlin's eyes and nodded. As Merlin took a seat on the end of one of the logs, she said, "Welcome, Emrys."

Addressing the group, she continued, "Part of our purpose here is achieved. Kari has been returned to us. But Morgause needs to know that she cannot continue as she has. We will not let her take us prisoner, or try to frighten us into obedience. To this end, we must drive her from her fortress in such a way that she knows it would be unwise to return. We have Emrys with us, and his presence makes it possible to break her barrier."

"Our watchers," said Durya, "have informed us that Camelot's knights are gathering. It appears, however, that it isn't just the prince riding with them. King Uther is believed to be planning to lead the attack himself." There was a stir among those gathered as she said this, and faces turned grim.

"This is not a disaster," Durya said sharply. "He is not here for us. It is simply that he believes that Morgause has his ward, the Lady Morgana, prisoner. But his presence does require consideration with regard to our plans. We will need to avoid Uther's grasp, and we shall." She looked over the fire at Sven. "What information were you able to gather from our prisoner?"

Sven cocked his head, birdlike. "Quite a bit, actually. He is a mercenary hired by King Cenred. His orders were to deliver Kari to Cenred and return to Morgause. There seems to have been some kind of arrangement – soldiers, well, mercenaries, in exchange for Kari. There were three squads of thirty men sent from Cenred to Morgause, his being the last group to arrive. We dealt with that squad. Presumably the other two are still in Morgause's stronghold."

Durya nodded. "So our estimate of her total soldiery is up to around one hundred or a little more, forty to fifty Blood Guard and sixty of Cenred's mercenaries."

"Plus Morgause and Thomas," added Sven.

"And probably Morgana," suggested Merlin. "I don't know what she can do, but I know that Morgause has been teaching her, or at least using her for magical purposes."

"Which means she has power of her own," Sven commented. "The high priestesses can 'borrow' energy from one with the gift, but not from one without. There's nothing to borrow."

"What do we know about the stronghold itself?" Durya asked the elders.

One old man leaned forward. "I knew the place well, long ago. The upper levels look like they've mostly fallen, leaving the throne room and the hall open to the air. The lower levels are probably more intact. Here's the layout of the lower levels as I remember it." He grabbed a stick and began drawing in the packed dirt near Durya's feet. When the group knew as much as he did about the structure, Durya turned to Merlin.

"If your king takes the dungeon level, will he release the prisoners?"

"I think he will pay very little attention to the prisoners if they aren't Morgana. He'll probably delegate dealing with them to Arthur. And Arthur will release them."

"You trust Arthur."

"I do."

"Then I believe we can leave the assault on the dungeons in the hands of the king. We will send someone to lead him there. Hopefully, if his attention is focused on taking the dungeons, we will be able to deal with Morgause and disappear into the forest before he turns his eyes toward us." She looked around the circle, and when there seemed to be agreement, she went on, "So. Our ranks are somewhat depleted. Let us decide who we want where, and how exactly we wish to do this."

-o-o-o-o-o-

An hour later, they were back by the barrier, almost halfway around from the two stone columns where Gwaine had taken a tumble the day before. Durya's remaining fighters had concealed themselves, ready to sneak into the keep as soon as the barrier fell. All was quiet. Even the sounds of the woods were muted. Then rapid footfalls were heard, and Geren came sprinting up.

"The king approaches!" he signaled. Durya acknowledged Geren, and then nodded to Merlin.

Merlin settled himself, braced his feet, and placed both hands on the barrier. Durya's hand on his back brought a surge of strength and confidence as she opened her mind to his and the power began to pour into him. Another surge came as Sven laid a hand on his shoulder. Merlin carefully gathered up the two strands of power, as Durya had instructed, and wove them into his own. Then he turned his mind to the obstruction. Power poured through him into his hands, and into the barrier. Though at first the barrier seemed to simply absorb it, soon the energy gathered into a hot glow between his hands. He pushed the power into that spot, imagining it to be the point of a sword pressing into the surface of the barrier.

In his mind's eye, Merlin suddenly saw Morgause's glittering gaze. _You dare? You will see – I am a high priestess. You will NOT prevail_. The barrier suddenly seemed to cool a bit under his hands. Merlin drew more power from within and without, pouring their combined strength into that one tiny spot. It writhed, wavered, but did not give way.

Durya and Sven seemed to redouble their efforts, sending strength and power through Merlin in a steady stream. The hot spot grew again, smoking between Merlin's hands, and a tiny hole opened up. Merlin saw Morgause's lip curl in his mind's eye. She did something – Merlin could not quite tell what. The barrier strengthened again, and Merlin felt Sven falter and drop to his knees. The power dropped off.

 _I have an idea_ , Merlin spoke silently through the link to Durya. _Steady pressure isn't working. Back up a bit, and let me try something?_ He could feel Durya's doubt, but he could also feel her weariness. She didn't have much more to give. He waited, trying to project confidence, and after a moment, her hand left his back and she backed up several steps. Sven had climbed laboriously to his feet and now joined her.

Merlin looked skyward and let go of it all. The barrier snapped shut, and he could hear Morgause's disdainful laughter in his head. He didn't care. He called for lightning, but slowly, slowly, giving it time to build. _This is going to the biggest lightning bolt in the history of lightning,_ he thought, _and then I'm going to help it along._

When the electricity had built up enough to make his hair stand on end, and he felt as though he was just barely holding back the bolt, he let it go. As it came crackling down from the heavens toward the barrier directly in front of Merlin, he cast another spell: the one that had exploded trees in the bandit camp a few weeks before. He centered it right beneath the lightning bolt.

The bolt struck.

The world went white.

The ground rocked.

The barrier turned briefly visible and shattered.

A blast of light and energy shot outward in all directions. The magical energy being released ripped through Merlin, blasting him backward a few steps, filling him to bursting, and overflowing out through his skin. _I'm glowing! Actually glowing,_ Merlin saw with amazement. Tentatively he reached to place one hand on Durya's arm and the other on Sven's shoulder, and felt the magic flow into them. Durya's eyes widened and Sven straightened. The glow faded.

There was a stark motionless silence. The air smelled of ozone. Even the wind had gone abruptly still. No bird chirped or fluttered in the trees. Nothing moved.

Then Durya's men and women recovered from their startlement and poured stealthily across the place where the barrier had been and through the undergrowth toward the ruined keep. Merlin turned to look at Geren, who was frozen in place, staring at Merlin.

"Geren, we're ready for Arthur. Can you…?"

Geren was still staring.

"Geren?"

"You _are_ Emrys." Geren shook himself. "Arthur. Right. Going." He dashed off.

Merlin took off running for the keep with Durya and Sven close behind.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Clambering awkwardly through a gap in the stone walls, Merlin glanced quickly around. There was little left of the keep above ground. The roof had long since fallen, and only a few of the biggest timbers were left, moldering among the underbrush. The outer stone walls must have once been much taller, for though most sections were now only eight or ten feet tall, there were sections that were still twenty or thirty feet high. Fallen stones were everywhere, making footing treacherous. Ahead, Durya's followers were moving directly toward a weathered marble staircase, open to the sky and choked with weeds. Reaching it, however, they fell back as it began sprouting black clad forms wearing the sigil of the Blood Guard.

Durya's folks were fewer than they had been the day before, and now were swiftly becoming outnumbered as man after man raced up the stairs and attacked. Merlin, Durya, and Sven picked them off as quickly as they could, but had to work one-by-one to avoid hitting their own people.

Hearing shouts from behind him, Merlin turned partway around to look, hoping to see the familiar red cloaks of Camelot. Instead, pouring around the corner of a stone wall were Cenred's mercenaries. _No, no, no,_ thought Merlin. _Where are you, Arthur?_ There was no place to go, but at least in this direction, there were no innocents he could accidentally hit. He spun the rest of the way around and unleashed a blast that threw six soldiers backward onto the blades of their own comrades. It was certainly satisfying; nevertheless, this new influx of enemies was impossibly bad. Durya's folks were now pinched in between the two groups of opponents and rapidly being winnowed.

"Emrys," shouted Durya, "Can you clear a path to the stairs? We have to get to Morgause! If she puts the barrier back up, Arthur will not be able to get to us."

Merlin nodded and began working his way toward the stairs, blasting, pushing, and dodging his way through the chaos. As he did so, horns sounded and a flood of red-cloaked forms poured into the ruined hall. Cenred's men turned to fight, and the tide of the battle turned.

Uther's voice rose above the fray. "Squads four and five with Arthur, capture the sorceress and her minion. Squads one through three with me. Clear this area then make for the dungeons."

Mere moments later, the prince had carved his way through the chaos to Durya's elbow. "Where is Merlin?" he demanded.

"He was over there last time I saw him," Durya replied, helpfully drawing Arthur's gaze away toward the farthest end of the wrecked hall. As Arthur turned to look, Merlin ducked behind a pair of combatants and changed back into himself. Moments later, Arthur's gauntleted hand had grabbed him by a handful of the front of his tunic and jacket and he was being dragged down the stairs. The prince struck blow after blow as he went, clearing the stairs and leaving a trail of bleeding bodies behind. Durya and Sven hastened in his wake, along with a group of knights and the rest of the prince's assigned squads of soldiers.

By the time they had reached the base of the stairs, there was already a great deal less light. A soldier lit a torch and passed it to Arthur, who handed it to Merlin to carry.

"Stay behind me," he said to Merlin. He raised his voice slightly to carry back to Durya. "Do you know which way?"

"I am unsure, Sire, but the biggest open space on this level is to your left at the next hallway. Perhaps she is there."

At the intersection of their hallway and the next, Arthur peered around the corner. Merlin did the same, ignoring Arthur's snort of irritation. There was light coming from beneath a wooden door perhaps thirty feet away. Arthur turned back silently and gestured to his men, orders to enter on his signal, going left and right alternately. Next he gripped Merlin's arm and spoke very quietly.

"Go to the back and stay there. Watch for trouble, but don't engage. You still aren't armed."

Merlin nodded meekly and tried not to laugh at the highly suspicious look his obedience drew from the prince. After offering the torch to Arthur, who waved it off, Merlin retreated through the throng with a wink for Durya and Sven in passing. Partway there, he found himself caught by both shoulders and hugged roughly. Startled, Merlin pulled back, to find Gwaine grinning at him.

"Merlin!" his friend asked, looking him over fleetingly. "You all right?"

"Fine. Come on-" Merlin grabbed Gwaine's sleeve and dragged him along toward the back of the column. Once there, he stopped, took a quick look around to be sure nobody was watching, warned Gwaine with a quick, "Watch – Durya gave me this," and turned back into Emrys. Gwaine looked, looked again, and laughed.

"Some trick, mate. Handy!" Clapping Merlin on the back, he turned his attention back toward the head of the column. _Perfect,_ thought Merlin. _Now 'Merlin' is safely out of Arthur's sight, and 'Emrys' is free to act_.

By the time 'Emrys' and Gwaine had reached Arthur, the prince was braced and ready to enter the room. A soldier was poised to open the door, and Arthur signaled, "Now." Merlin quickly cast a silent shield spell over his prince, and moments later had cause to be very glad indeed that he had. When the door slammed open, Arthur and the first two knights charged through it and directly into a strange black cloud. Arthur gagged briefly and coughed hard, stumbling a bit, but was able to continue on into the room. Both of the knights, however, staggered and fell, each one scrabbling at his chest and throat. The rest of the column poured through unharmed as the cloud dissipated, and Merlin got his first good look at the room and its inhabitants.

The room was large, and lit with many lanterns in niches along the walls and supported by huge stone pillars that marched in twin lines down the length of the room. At the far end of the room, a crude dais had been constructed, with two chairs set upon it. Three people presently occupied it. Morgause, near the center, stood in front of one of the chairs. Morgana lay in an unmoving heap at her feet. Thomas, who had been sitting on the floor with his back braced against Morgause's chair, was now struggling to his feet. Between Arthur and Morgause stood a dense mass of Blood Guard soldiers, standing as still as statues in silent rows, waiting for the order to attack.

 **Author's note: Am I evil? Hope the story is still fun! Let me know – comments make my day! And if I've made a logic/continuity error, please tell me: I'd like to fix it!**


	16. Chapter 16 - Morgause

**Arthur and Uther have arrived and the barrier is down. Arthur and his men have found Morgause – and a whole bunch more Blood Guard – waiting for them.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 16 –** **Morgause**

"Attack!" commanded Morgause, and the Blood Guard charged, howling. Arthur's forces, pouring into the room, spread out and engaged. In moments the room was filled with the crashes and shouts of battle. Merlin, as Emrys, formed a triangle with Arthur and Gwaine. They were quickly surrounded by Blood Guard. Over and over again, Merlin lashed out with his magic, knocking opponents away from himself or Arthur or Gwaine. He could tell by the glances he was getting from Arthur that the prince was somewhat dubious of this unarmed stranger using magic at his very elbow.

Then it happened. A knot of combatants reeled and crashed into Merlin, knocking him off balance and shoving him into Arthur, who rocked under the impact. Gwaine turned to grab Merlin, ignoring his own defense. A Blood Guard soldier took advantage of Gwaine's distraction and his sword sliced deeply into Gwaine's leg.

Gwaine went down.

"Merlin," Arthur shouted in the general direction of 'behind him', "come help Gwaine!"

Merlin let the battle push 'Emrys' a few steps away from Arthur's side, then ducked behind a nearby pillar to change forms again, hoping that everyone was busy enough not to notice. _Keep this up_ , he thought inconsequentially, _and pretty soon I'll have to look at my hands to figure out who I am right now_. Returning, he skidded to his knees beside Gwaine and gently but firmly moved his friend's hands away from the injury. The blade of the sword had slashed deeply into Gwaine's thigh from the side, and Merlin could see the blood that soaked Gwaine's trouser leg spreading frighteningly rapidly and already beginning to drip onto the stones beneath.

"What is it about you and your legs?" he asked his friend, trying to keep his tone light. "Isn't this the state you ended up in the day we met?" He rotated Gwaine's leg enough to get the proper angle to put pressure on the wound, laid a folded rag hastily ripped from his tunic over the wound and leaned on it. As he did so, Gwaine's face went white and his teeth clenched. Merlin winced in sympathy, but did not let up. "Sorry," he said. "I know it hurts, but this bleeding has to be stopped NOW." Gwaine nodded wordlessly, his face tight.

Holding the pressure on Gwaine's injury, Merlin scanned the room. The battle was still raging all around them. Arthur was sticking close, standing almost on top of Gwaine, trying to protect the two of them. Thomas had come to the edge of the dais and set himself between Morgause and the rest of the room. There he had been confronted by Durya and Sven, who were standing shoulder to shoulder facing him. Magic flew back and forth between them, and even as Merlin watched Thomas was knocked backward a step. Morgause had crouched, ignoring the battle, and was stroking Morgana's hair away from her face and shaking her shoulder lightly. Merlin could see her lips moving, but could not make out the words in the din. Morgana stirred. _Wonder if Arthur is seeing this? He still thinks Morgana is Morgause's prisoner. Tending to her is keeping Morgause out of the fight at least – but that won't last long._

Merlin freed one hand and grabbed the nearest Camelot soldier, dragging him down next to Gwaine. "Here. Keep pressure, like that. Don't move your hands, just keep pressing straight down." He looked at Gwaine. "Stay put, don't try to move. I'll be right back. Or I'll send Emrys." Gwaine nodded weakly.

Rising, Merlin quickly surveyed the room. Thomas was now fleeing the dais, pursued by Sven. Durya was advancing on Morgause and Morgana, the latter of whom was now weakly trying to sit up with Morgause's help. Morgause, seeing Durya, said something inaudible to Morgana and transferred Morgana's weight to the chair behind her. She stepped toward Durya and a duel began between the two. Spells crackled back and forth as Merlin ducked away, turned back into Emrys, and resumed his position near Arthur trying to protect both him and Gwaine. For the first minute, the two seemed evenly matched, but soon Morgause began to gain the upper hand. Durya was being pushed backward steadily toward the center of the room where Arthur was standing. Merlin spared a moment to take a shot at Morgause, but discovered to his dismay that she had cast a shield spell. His blast, weakened by the shield, barely rocked her.

Moments later, Durya went down. Morgause looked up. And saw Arthur.

"Pendragon!" Morgause hissed. "And you! You are Emrys? And you stand with a Pendragon? Over your own people? You've chosen your loyalty poorly, warlock!"

Merlin saw Morgause look skyward, though above her there was no sky, only stone. Nevertheless, electricity began to gather, and Merlin felt the hairs on his scalp rising. Then Morgause began to raise her hand, eyes on Arthur. Merlin leaped forward to stand in front of Arthur, speaking the words of the strongest shield spell he could muster, trying to cover himself, Arthur, Gwaine, and the young soldier at Gwaine's side. He was barely in time. Lightning crashed against the shield with terrifying force, and when it could not pass directly through, it arced crazily around the shield, wrapping Merlin and his comrades in a dome of crackling blue-white energy. Then it dissipated, leaving Morgause's habitually disdainful expression badly shaken. Out of the corner of his eyes, Merlin could see Durya slowly climbing to her feet and Sven standing over Thomas' limp body. Then his attention returned to Morgause as she spoke slowly.

"You protect him. Very well. So you both die."

A battle began that Merlin would remember for the rest of his life. As the struggle played itself out around him, he focused entirely on bringing himself and his prince and his friend out of this alive. Over and over, lightning crackled over them, the black cloud hissed around them, and his shield was pounded by blast after blast. But bit by bit, Merlin learned. He learned that his strongest shield spell could block everything she unleashed. He learned that he could siphon off the energy of her lightning and send it back at her, though it spent itself on her shield. And he learned that he could, with enough concentration, punch a spell through her shields. Not with full force, perhaps. But he could get through. And, from Morgause, he learned to cast lightning with not even a clear blue sky to draw it from.

He cast the spell.

His lightning punched through. Her shield drew off some of it, but not enough. Electricity arced over Morgause's body. She staggered and fell, small fires bursting to life on her clothing. After a desperate look around her, she crawled the few feet that separated her from Morgana, slapping frantically at the flames. She raised an unsteady hand once more. Merlin braced for more lightning, but Morgause had no such intent. She gestured and spoke a spell. Crawling black bolts enveloped the two women, and they were gone.

Merlin took a deep breath and for the first time in what seemed like a very long time, let go of the shield spell. As it collapsed, he felt the fatigue come down on him like a leaden blanket. Attempting to turn back to Arthur, he got only halfway around before his knees simply gave out. Surprised, he crashed to the ground. When he looked up, Arthur was standing over him. The prince's expression was wide-eyed and guardedly concerned.

"Are you alright?" the prince asked, reaching down to offer a hand up. He grasped Merlin's forearm firmly and pulled him to his feet. "It's Emrys, correct?"

Merlin almost choked. He'd forgotten that he was 'Emrys' and had almost answered the prince as Merlin. "Yes, Sire," he responded to both questions at once. "Thank you."

Arthur looked at him as if he were wondering which of them had lost his mind. "No, Emrys, thank _**you**_." He looked around him, eyes following the perfect circle of scorched rock that surrounded them. "I am fairly certain I would not have survived that without you."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Durya and Sven had gotten their own folks out as quickly as possible and retreated to their camp to attend to their dead and wounded. 'Emrys' disappeared in the confusion, and Merlin returned to check on Gwaine. Uther, furious at having not found Morgana in the dungeons, was even more irate when he heard from Arthur that the sorceress had escaped again with Morgana. After assigning one squad of soldiers and a single knight to Arthur, the king charged his son with sorting out the prisoners, dealing with the wounded, and searching the keep for clues as to where Morgause might have gone. Then the king and the other knights and soldiers departed for Camelot with Thomas in custody and well secured.

Arthur's work, and therefore Merlin's work, was just beginning. Arthur's squad began exploring the keep, sorting out friend from foe and injured from dead. Keys were found on the body of a Blood Guard soldier, and used to free the prisoners. They were fed, interviewed for any information they could offer, and then sent on their way, unless they were injured. Merlin bandaged wounded man after wounded man, while keeping a worried eye on the unconscious Gwaine, whose wound refused to quite stop bleeding.

By late in the afternoon, Arthur and his men had things well in hand. The keep had been searched top to bottom, and all of the dead had been dealt with. Sir Vedric was preparing to ride out, taking with him the remaining squad of soldiers, Camelot's wounded, and a few of Morgause's former prisoners who wished to travel in the general direction of Camelot. This left behind Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and two of the former prisoners who were too weak to travel.

Durya must have had someone watching the keep, because as soon as Vedric was gone, Sven, Kari, Geren, and three strong young men whose names Merlin didn't know arrived carrying a trio of improvised stretchers, with orders from Durya to do what they could. Having already healed many of Durya's people, some of whom had been very badly hurt, Kari was nearly exhausted. Still, the application of her gift managed to finally get Gwaine's wound to stop bleeding, and then he and the other two patients were deftly loaded onto the stretchers and carried carefully up to Durya's camp. Once in camp, Merlin sank down by Gwaine, who had still not awakened, meaning to rest for a few minutes then go deal with food for himself and Arthur. _I'll close my eyes, just for a second,_ he thought. It was the last thing he remembered for some time.

 **Author's note: There will be one more chapter: Merlin needs an opportunity to talk with Arthur as Emrys. And we can't leave Gwaine bleeding and unconscious, can we? Please let me know what you thought of this next-to-last chapter – comments are so, so encouraging! And as always, please tell me if I've made any mistakes so I can fix them!**


	17. Chapter 17 - Emrys

**The battle is over, leaving Gwaine a bit worse for the wear. And 'Emrys' has a few words he'd like to say to Arthur. Last chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognizable characters.**

 **The Royal Crest of Camelot**

 **Chapter 17 –** **Emrys**

Gwaine, reflected Merlin tiredly deep in the night, was a terrible patient. Having lost so much blood, Gwaine couldn't stand up and stay conscious. Unfortunately, that had not stopped him from trying to do so each and every time he woke up. So Merlin was still sitting next to him on the packed earth by the fire. Around the fire were a few other slumbering bodies: the two former prisoners, and one of Durya's young men who had apparently imitated Merlin and fallen asleep right where he happened to be sitting.

Gwaine currently slept curled on his side by the fire, wrapped in two blankets even in the mild night, with his head pillowed on Merlin's extra shirt. His face in the flickering yellow light of the fire, looked bone white and waxy, with a sunken appearance that made his sharp cheekbones stand out even more than usual.

Merlin shifted, rubbing the back of his neck and nudging aside the water skin he'd been dosing Gwaine with. It was half full of willow bark tea, which, though Gwaine claimed it was undrinkable, had the twin benefits of reducing his pain and replenishing his fluids. He reached over to wrap his hand around Gwaine's wrist to check his pulse once again. As he did so, Arthur slipped noiselessly out of Durya's tent and dropped down next to him.

"How is he?" the prince asked quietly.

Merlin tilted his head side to side in a yea-nay gesture. "I wish Gaius were here. But I think he's stable. So far there's been no further bleeding and no sign of infection. It'll take some time to recover from the blood loss. And he has to rest and eat and drink to do that."

"Eating and drinking won't be a problem. But we'll have to sit on him to get him to rest."

"I have been. Every time he wakes up."

"I see. Well, I'm up. Go take my bedroll in Durya's tent, lie down, and get some sleep. I'll watch him."

"But-" Merlin broke off as Gwaine moaned and, without even opening his eyes, rolled over enough to prop himself up on his elbows, head hanging. Merlin sighed. "Here we go again. Gwaine, no, lie down." Gwaine did not seem to hear him, and was laboriously shoving himself up onto his hands. Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder. "Gwaine, you're going to start bleeding again. Lie back down."

Arthur took a more direct approach. He swept Gwaine's arms out from underneath him, caught him when he toppled, and laid him back in the position he'd started in. A heavy hand on the young man's shoulder prevented him from rising.

"That, Merlin, is how to handle Gwaine." Gwaine's eyes were open now, and he shoved weakly against Arthur's firm restraint, trying to unsuccessfully to shrug him off. "Gwaine, can you hear me? Answer me."

Merlin was flipping back the blankets to check the bandages – no new bleeding – and glanced up at Gwaine's face as the young man mumbled, "Yeah, yeah. What the heck? Let go of me!"

"Not unless you promise to stay still," Merlin said as sternly as he could.

"Yes, mother," came the indistinct but sarcastic response, "I'll be good."

"You had better." Arthur released Gwaine and pointed to Merlin with his chin. "Merlin has been up half the night with you, and won't go to sleep because **you** keep trying to get up, and he's afraid you'll restart the bleeding."

When Gwaine focused muzzily on Merlin's face, a guilty expression came to the fore. "Sorry, mate. Get some sleep. You look like you're on your last legs. I'll stay put."

"See, Merlin? He'll behave. Now go lie down."

"Are you sure, Sire? He needs some more willow bark tea…"

"I'll handle it. Go to sleep, Merlin."

Merlin entered the tent quietly so as to not disturb any of the other sleepers. He lay down, but found himself staring, very tired but frustratingly wide awake, at the tent flap. As he tossed and turned, a thought occurred to him. This might be an opportunity unlikely to recur. Merlin quietly rose and wriggled out of the back of the tent, changing forms as he did so.

As Emrys, he approached the fire and spoke quietly. "Sire, may I speak with you for a moment before I leave?"

Arthur eyed him somewhat speculatively and gestured to a log nearby. "I will listen."

With a deep breath Merlin took the proffered seat. He had to remember who Arthur thought he was. "Durya has high hopes for your reign. She believes you can be trusted. So there is something you may now be told. You are surrounded by magic, and your destiny involves magic. Be wise, Prince of Camelot. Accept it."

Arthur looked at Merlin narrowly. "What do you mean? How am I surrounded by magic?"

"There are sorcerers in Camelot." _Me and Gaius_ , Merlin added silently. "They stay so that they can be there to protect you. They believe in your destiny, and risk death on the pyre every day – for you and for Albion. They have risked doing magic, over and over again, to protect you."

"So they have been, what? Spying?"

"No, Sire. They report to no-one."

"Hiding. Lying, presumably."

"Sire, suppose one of them came to you and admitted he had magic. What would happen next?"

Arthur was silent, clearly thinking. Then he answered, slowly. "It would depend."

"You would be caught in the jaws of a dilemma, and you know it." _Go easy_ , thought Merlin. _Not too familiar. Be Emrys_. "If you tell the king, then the sorcerer dies in the flames. If you keep it secret from him, you commit treason on behalf of a sorcerer."

"The sorcerers wouldn't admit their magic to me. They don't trust me."

"They do. But they do not trust your father."

"My father is the king."

"And well they know it."

There was a silence again.

"And my destiny?" At Arthur's unexpected question, Merlin struggled to remember what exactly 'Emrys' had said about Arthur's destiny.

"You are one half of a coin, says the prophesy, the Once and Future King." Merlin sucked in another deep breath. If Arthur asked, any of the sleeping men and women around him could put a name to the other half of the prophesy. Merlin might as well. "The other half of your coin is a sorcerer…named Emrys. And it was prophesied that together you have the power to unite the land and bring about Albion."

"Emrys. You?"

 _As much of the truth as possible._

"In a way. This," gesturing to his own body, "isn't really me. Or at least this isn't how I normally appear."

"Who are you, then?"

"For your safety, and mine, and for the sake of Albion, for now I am only Emrys."

" **You** are one of the sorcerers in Camelot. You're someone I know." Arthur's tone was not so much accusing as it was challenging. Merlin had expected more anger. "I will find out who you are."

"You are welcome to try, Sire. I trust you; I know you will harm no innocents in your search." Merlin thought for a moment, gulped, and then said faintly, "If you discover who I am and choose to ask me directly, I will not lie." He shuddered at the power he'd just handed Arthur. "But I beg you to choose carefully, and be very sure you are prepared for the answer."

Arthur looked as though he were experiencing every emotion in the book, and trying hard to keep a lid on it all. Anger and curiosity, betrayal and pride, suspicion and amazement. And apprehension. Merlin spoke to soothe it. "And until then, I will continue to protect you secretly, to the last breath in my body, because you are my prince," _and my friend, even when you're a prat,_ he added silently, "and one day I will call you my king and be proud to do so. Then, when it is safe, I will tell you who I am."

 _Better make myself scarce before he can start asking questions_ , thought Merlin. He rose and bowed to the prince, saying, "I must be on my way, Sire. Safe travels tomorrow." He walked away from Arthur into the cover of the trees, and when he was thoroughly out of sight and hearing, quietly crept around the periphery of the camp until he could slip back in through the back of the tent. He lay down again on Arthur's bedroll, and this time, sleep came.

-o-o-o-o-o-

When Merlin awoke, the birds were greeting one another with sleepy chirps and the very first blush of light could be seen in the sky. He rose and went out to the fire to check on Gwaine and Arthur. They were both asleep, Arthur propped against a log he'd evidently dragged over next to Gwaine. Gwaine's blankets had been pushed off and were now bunched up under him. Merlin noted with concern that his friend's face was flushed and damp. He hunkered down to check Gwaine's pulse – still a little fast, but slower and stronger than last night – and felt the heat rising from his skin. Fever.

Merlin looked over at the tent as motion caught his attention. Durya came out and settled on the other end of the prince's log, saying softly so as not to wake anyone, "Good morning, Merlin. How is Gwaine?"

"Feverish. I want to get some willow bark tea into him as soon as he wakes up."

"I will have Kari tend him when she wakes up. Having had a night's sleep, she should be able to help."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. He could probably weather this on his own, but…"

"Better to be sure."

"Yes." Merlin glanced over at Arthur who still seemed to be sleeping, then back at Durya. He picked a spot near Durya and sat down.

"Durya, where did you learn the magic?" he asked. "You and Sven seem to know so much more about it than the rest of us do."

She hesitated momentarily, and Merlin thought she was going to turn the question aside again, but then she smiled wryly. "I suppose it's ancient history now. But long ago I was an acolyte among the high priestesses. I had nearly completed my studies, and soon would have been presented for consecration when, well, something went wrong."

"'Wrong' may not be the word, my dear. You would not have survived the Purge, had you been among the high priestesses." Sven's voice came from behind Merlin. He nudged Durya over and perched next to her on the very end of the log.

"I loved Sven even then, you see," Durya explained, smiling at Sven, "and such a thing was not permitted. I was ordered to give him up-"

"To be put to death." Sven added.

"Yes. So we fled the priestesses and went back to live among our people."

"So here you are. I for one am very glad you two escaped," Merlin commented.

"As are we," responded Sven. "And on that note, I am going to look into breakfast." He wandered off.

Not long after Sven left, Arthur awakened, stretched, and levered himself up to sit on the log. He greeted Durya respectfully and inquired of Merlin into Gwaine's condition. Satisfied that all was being done that could be, he turned to another topic that froze Merlin in place.

"Durya, Emrys stopped by last night. He as much as told me that he was secretly living in Camelot with another face, another identity." Durya's eyes widened then slipped surreptitiously to Merlin and away. "Did you know?"

"That he lived in Camelot? No. I knew **of** Emrys. Though until recently, Emrys was a matter of prophesy and legend rather than fact."

"Do you trust him?"

"Now that I know him? Yes. Entirely. He is worthy of your trust, Sire. You can have no more loyal a protector, even though you may not always see him."

"Do you know who he is? Other than Emrys?"

Though Durya was careful not to look at Merlin, he could tell she was watching him in the periphery of her vision. _Emrys, do you have a preference?_

Merlin was at something of a loss. _No…Ummm…I don't want you to have to lie to him…but…_

"Sire," Durya took matters into her own hands. "I believe I do know Emrys' true face. But I also believe it needs to remain a secret. Both you and he will be safer so for the time being."

"And if I ordered you to tell me?"

"I betray a trust if I reveal him. So I must trust you not to ask that of me. The secret belongs to Emrys, not to me."

Tension thrummed in the air. Durya waited. Merlin waited. Neither of them breathed. Finally the prince said, "Emrys. It all comes back to Emrys, doesn't it?" The question was clearly rhetorical. After a pause, he dropped the topic and turned to Merlin. "Merlin. I'll watch Gwaine. Go ahead and start preparing breakfast."

Not long after breakfast, Kari came out of her tent with Geren close behind. She walked directly over to crouch next to Gwaine. A quick examination caused her to purse her lips in concern. She looked at Arthur, then Merlin. "I should heal the leg fully now, and remove any infection. That ought to take care of the fever. He's already recovered somewhat from the blood loss."

Merlin looked at Arthur, who nodded permission.

She placed a hand on Gwaine's chest, and had to back up hastily when he awoke abruptly, rolling and flailing, and almost kicked Arthur in the shin. Then he scooped his hair out of his eyes, and looked up into the ring of faces surrounding him.

"Better?" asked Merlin.

"Yeah. Loads better." He scrambled to his feet, causing Merlin to ease closer just in case. He looked at Kari and sketched a bow. "I am most grateful, milady." He tugged at his shirt, which was damp with perspiration. "Sticky, though. Is there a place I could wash up?" Merlin looked around, found Gwaine's pack, and began digging in it.

Durya pointed off into the forest. "A stream, a little ways that way."

Gwaine turned to go, and Merlin cleared his throat.

"Gwaine, don't you need something?"

"Hmm?"

Merlin tossed him a handful of dry clothes.

"Thanks, mate." He disappeared into the trees.

There was quiet for about two minutes. Then a large splash was followed by a yelp.

Arthur looked concerned, but Durya seemed entirely unperturbed. "It's a bit chilly," she said in explanation.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time all was ready, it was late in the morning and Durya, Sven, Kari, and Geren were gathered at the fire pit to see them off. Merlin had saddled the horses, packed for himself and Arthur, and made sure Gwaine ate and drank. "And no spirits until tomorrow!" Kari had told Gwaine. "Water, juice, milk. You still need to replenish your blood supply, and your body can't do it without the proper fluids. Promise me!" Gwaine groaned but promised nevertheless.

Geren clasped arms with each of them, wishing them safe travels, and Kari dispensed hugs all round. Durya and Sven stood almost formally before Arthur. It had, Merlin thought, the feeling of a meeting of heads of state. Certainly Arthur was according Durya the kind of respect he would give a visiting queen.

"Thank you for your help, and please convey my thanks again to Emrys. We would not have withstood Morgause without your help and that of your brave people."

"And without you, Sire, we could never have reached her. Her soldiers were simply too many for us. We are grateful for your help."

"Morgause is a menace to both of us, and took both of us to drive out. I hope that one day we can defeat her together."

"As do we, Sire. And we continue to be at your service, and will contact you if there is aught you should know."

"Thank you, Durya, Sven," and he bowed over Durya's hand and then clasped Sven's. "Farewell."

As they rode away, Merlin heard Durya's voice in his head, _Goodbye, Emrys. Know that we stand ready to support you and the Once and Future King. Fare you well, and return soon!_ Merlin knew, as he had from the beginning, that he would stand between Arthur and harm forever. Now he was sure that one day, when Arthur was king, it **would** be safe to tell his secret, and together they could bring about Albion.

—The End—

 **Dear Readers,**

 **And there you have my tale, such as it is. Thank you for sticking with me all the way to the end!**

 **I hope you have enjoyed reading my flight of fancy as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I also hope you'll comment one last time – or a first time, for that matter! I treasure your comments – all of them! – and read and re-read them. They make me feel supported and appreciated and just plain wonderful.**

 **Thank you so very much for coming on this journey with me!**

 **Respectfully,**

 _ **Vanvdreamer**_


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